


Hangovers Part 3

by TheArtOfBlossoming



Series: Vincent, Redefined [10]
Category: Fallout 4, Fallout 76
Genre: F/M, Fallout 4 / Fallout 76 crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 56,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtOfBlossoming/pseuds/TheArtOfBlossoming
Summary: Ricky Gee had survived the deadly nuclear blast but at great cost. He begins a long journey that takes him from his Homestead in Appalachia all the way to the Commonwealth, many years later.
Relationships: Male Vault Dweller / Commander Sofia DaGuerre, Robert Joseph MacCready/Male Sole Survivor
Series: Vincent, Redefined [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/566194
Kudos: 4





	1. Stripped

"I fell into a burnin' ring of fire  
I went down, down, down  
And the flames went higher,  
And it burns, burns, burns,  
The ring of fire, the ring of fire."

Burning. Everywhere. That's all I could feel. I frantically hit the exit button from inside my power armor but all I got was a rusty-sounding alarm buzzer. I screamed but the suit speaker just crackled. They couldn't hear me. 

I panicked. My breath was rapid and shallow, echoing inside my helmet until it sounded like a crowd was breathing into my ears. I brought up the in-suit PIP-boy display…at least that was working. I fought against the feeling of my muscles being turned to lava to punch in a marker on my homestead and send it to Static who stood nearby, muscles bulging, electricity arcing off him as he soaked up radiation to heal his mutant body.

I saw him check it and nod. I turned and started running. The pain seemed to fuel my legs, my own mutation kicking in, making them work harder, run faster, dodge boulders, climb hills. I was almost home when the fusion cores ran out. The suit itself braked hard, rattling my marathoning limbs. My knees buckled and it was only the suit that held me up and kept me moving.

It took twenty-five agonising minutes to get to Charleston and up the hill to Homestead. I jammed my frame into the power armor stand, feeling the suspension hooks connect and take the suit's weight. The front door opened and Sofia stepped out, the smile on her face fading when she saw Static bracing himself against the frame to grab the release handles at the back.

He was using all his strength and still the damn can wouldn't open. Sofia disappeared inside and reappeared with a crowbar, handing that to my Vault cousin. He stabbed it into a join so hard it made the suit ring like a bell. It was agonisingly loud. I screamed again.

Finally, the thing buckled and cracked. I fell out backwards like a rag doll, still conscious but barely, exhausted from screaming, my ears still muffled and ringing. I heard Sofia yell, a cry of horror and shock.

Hands picked me up.

"No, in the guesthouse, Static. I don't want the kids to see. You got him? Alright, I…I'll fetch my medkit."

"Well, shit," was the only thing I heard Static say for a long time. 

Sofia returned and he left the room. She had a bowl and a fresh, white boiled cloth. She looked me up and down as if she didn't know where to start. Everything was blurred, there was a faintly metallic taste in my mouth and I couldn't smell a thing. Almost the only thought I had was how my skin was on fire.

Sofia put the bowl down, drew the red drapes and switched on a lamp. She pulled out scissors and started cutting my clothes - **all** my clothes - off of me. 

In moments, I was laying there naked, being very gently bathed. The burning sensation subsided and my vision started to clear a little, just enough to see how red Sofia's eyes were.

"Oh…Ricky….," I heard her say. 

I wanted to talk but I couldn't open my mouth, my jaw had seized shut. Muscle spasms wracked my body until I passed out from the involuntary effort.

When I came to, I heard voices outside. Sofia was talking to…was that Mort? Yes, Mordecai from the Wayward. The door opened briefly and I just heard him say, "Yeah, yeah. Poor guy. I'll help him out, sure. It's gonna be rough for a while. Um, hey, get him someth'n soft ta eat, more rads the better. Trust me.

I tried speaking again. My jaw had relaxed but when I spoke, I didn't recognise my own voice. A gravelly "Sofia!" escaped my numb lips.

"I'm here, lo..ohhhh...ohh...Ricky…." Sofia broke down in sobs. 

I tried to push myself onto my elbows. 

"Easy, there, Ricky Gee," Mort said. He moved to my side and very gently put a supportive arm behind my sore back. He piled up pillows behind me and when I was supported, turned to Sofia. "Don't worry, I'll have a root around in your kitchen an' bring him something myself. You just…just stay with him."

I waited a long time for Sofia to speak. She couldn't stop sobbing. My hearing slowly returned and I heard my babies laughing in the house. My twins! Who was with the kids? My thought was answered with the sound of Wanda's voice raised in song, some nursery rhyme or other. Sofia's sobs ebbed away and she finally spoke.

"Oh my love. I'm so, so sorry. There's nothing we can do. You…ohh Ricky."

I looked at myself for the first time. My arms were raw red, burned, ruined skin. A thumbnail fell off onto the white sheet. I lifted my hand to the side of my head, as I habitually did to smooth the pomp. Hair came off into my hand. I ran both hands through, faster, in panic. More hair fell out. That's when I cried. Huge, angry sobs of shock and realisation…

I'd become a ghoul.

The next few days were the hardest. I was getting stronger on the irradiated crap that Mordecai brought out to me. He sat and sympathised, telling me all the nasty stuff no ghoul ever admitted experiencing to a smoothskin. I took my diagnosis hard.

I was so thirsty. I got back on my feet, wearing the bedsheet like a toga and drank water straight from the well bucket. Something about it tasted good, though the silt was an unwelcome texture. Sofia rushed out and hurried me back to the guesthouse, looking back to see if anyone was around.

Mort came by every day, holding my proverbial hand through the process. On the ninth day after, I finally went inside my home again. Wanda just looked at me with sad eyes and said, "Oh honey. Rough road."

The twins were quiet. I really thought they'd cry. They just stared until I spoke, my voice almost what it once was with just a hint of gravel to it. Months later, Sofia admitted to loving my new, sexier singing voice. That she ever felt that way about me again was a wonder…that we could never have any more kids, the worst heartbreak.

My kids, Bonnie and Jo, just thirteen months old, smiled at me when I said their names. They knew me and reached for me, babbling. My eyes teared up and, well, I babbled right back.

On the eleventh day, the rest of my hair fell out. At least my scalp had stopped throbbing but when I very gently stroked the fancy hairbrush over the top of my head and it just sloughed off, I fell onto my knees and cried like a baby.

I always though my hair one of my best features and I'll admit to being just vain enough to maintain an air of cool. Sofia came rushing into the bathroom and found me sobbing, grasping the last of my cherry auburn pomp. She gently took the handful of hair, tied it up with a bit of string, emptied the last three bobby pins from their box and put my hair carefully in there.

I just couldn't speak.

The following day, we were sat at the table. Wanda was enjoying looking after the twins whilst Sofia and Mort looked after me. My dear wife brought some pumpkin soup, which Wanda fed to Joseph whilst Sofia fed Roberta.

I took up my spoon, hand still shaking and took a mouthful. It was warm, though I could barely taste the earthy spiciness of Sofia's home cooking. I felt something tickle my face and scrunched up my nose to dispel the annoyance, huffing like a brahmin. Just as I dipped in my spoon again, something splashed into my soup.  
The whole table stared, wide-eyed. I brought my spoon up automatically and stopped short. There, resting in the bowl of the spoon, covered in fucking pumpkin soup was my fucking nose.

I dropped the spoon, stood up sharp like and beat it out the door. 

I didn't stop marching 'til I'd got right down to the bottom of the ravine, under the bridge, where I yelled out all my fear and frustration. I'd been stripped of myself. Much of my skin, my ears, nails, hair on my head and finally nose, all gone. I just walked, unarmed and unarmoured. A small pool of water showed me my new visage. I didn't even recognise it as me, at first. 

Gone was the flutterbum, the good-looking cool cat. In his place was this thing that looked like a very scarcely-bearded strip of bacon. My eyes were sunken and milky-blue, my clothes hanging looser on my shrivelled frame. 

I felt stronger than I ever had but other parts of me were muted or gone altogether. I wept again over the loss of my hair, nevermind the nose which had pretty much lost its sense of smell, anyway.

That's when the depression really set in.


	2. Persecuted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky slowly gets used to his new condition and ventures out for the first time in a while.

The days passed, then the weeks. My world only extended to the edges of the C.A.M.P. (Construction and Assembly Mobile Platform) that had become my homestead. I'd plonked it down in the first pretty and convenient spot I'd found, fresh out of the vault. We were _meant_ to move them with us as we moved across Appalachia but I hadn't the heart to shift it. I'd rather sleep rough, bunk at a boarding house or, eventually, use a semi-permanent survival tent.

I loved my home. The views from our hilltop, the big old New River Gorge Bridge reaching away into the distance, the greenery of The Forest.

When I'd recovered enough to do simple stuff, draw water from the well, tend our small farm, shoot the occassional pest that wandered by, cook, clean, change diapers and shovel food into hungry little mouths, Wanda left us again saying she was long overdue to meet the road. I wasn't surprised. When friends or travelling merchants came by, I'd lock myself in the john or our bedroom. 

Poor Sofia but I was hell to be around. I didn't pick up my guitar for three solid months, that's how low I was. My excuse was that I'd lost my fingernails. I used to keep the ones on my right hand just that bit longer for plucking strings. Sofia had enough one day, stormed over to the workbench and made me these finger picks. She put them on me and I haven't taken them off since.

Bless my Spacekitten. She just didn't give up on me. It took her a while to adjust, too. For weeks she avoided touching me. Then she'd sometimes lay a hand on my clothed arm. On that third month, with the kids asleep in their cot in the bedroom and us sitting in the parlour listening to the radio, she looked me in the eye and asked if she could kiss me.

I was frozen like a radstag in a torchlight. I hated the feel of my skin. It had turned like old rubber, ridged and uneven. I'd been close enough to ghouls when I was a smoothskin to know that I couldn't smell so great, either. She just looked at me with those big, brown doe eyes of hers, slowly removed her black-rimmed glasses and put them on the table, waiting expectantly.

Something in me that had been sleeping stirred awake. I gave the tiniest nod, afraid that she'd be repulsed. She softly laid her hand on the side of my corded cheek and pressed her full lips to my shrivelled ones. I discovered that what remained of my mouth was still very sensitive, her softness overwhelming. Her tongue peeked out to explore and met its partner in my own mouth, the interior of which had changed much less than the exterior. She drew me into a deep, slow, carefully passionate kiss and cried. We both did, save that my tears were reluctant and only just misted my eyes over.

We both slowly ended the kiss. I wiped the tears off Sofia's cheek with the back of my forefinger.

"I love you, Lucky Ricky," Sofia whispered.

I looked down at the floor. "Guess my luck ran out, doll."

"No, you goof, it didn't. You survived. You have two beautiful children who still adore their Pop, a home, people who care and who have been asking after you." She paused and made me look her right in the eyes. "You still have me."

I turned away. "I don't know how you can stand to look at this bald, shrivelled ugly mug every day. At least I can choose to not look in the mirror."

Sofia just shook her head and smiled sadly. "I didn't fall in love with you for your looks, Daddy-O. He may have become a bit of a hermit crab of late but the man I married is still in there. He needs to get out again."

Sofia sat up straight, decisively. "We're going to visit Adrienne tomorrow."

"The Big O? All that way?"

"It isn't far. Kids are still small enough to carry under the big chestplates." I'd made papooses out of combat armour pieces when the twins had been born, in case we ever needed to scoot out of there. I doubted they'd fit under them much longer, though.

"I don't know, Sof. I'm just not ready."

"I think I might have something that will change your mind, flutterbum," she smiled coyly and disappeared downstairs briefly. When she returned, she was holding a small, thin box wrapped in Nuka Girl paper, with a quantum blue ribbon.

"Here, try this for size," she said.

I took the package and looked up. "Flutterbum? Not any more, knockout." 

She laughed. "I never was a knockout, Ricky. The other astronauts, cadets at college…they'd go for 'homely' or 'plain jane', usually.

"Well I always thought you were the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on. I mean knockout in a way that ain't just superficial eye-candy. Doll, you're gorgeous."

Sofia was blushing. "Open it!"

I did as I was told. Inside, pristine in its wrapper and net was a real-hair Colonial Coiffeur pompadour wig. I took it out, very carefully.

"Want some help to fix it on?" Sofia asked. I couldn't speak I was so choked up so I just nodded. She opened it out and placed it on my scarred scalp; I felt like I was being crowned or something. She grinned and fetched a mirror. 

For the first time in weeks, I felt like I was looking at myself. I smoothed the hair at the sides and it felt like my own. I got my brush and pompade out of the back of the drawer and tweaked it to perfection. I really wished I could cry. Instead, I embraced my amazing wife and whispered my thanks, over and over. I only stopped when she kissed me again and said with a bittersweet smile, "Best looking ghoul I ever met."

Ghoul. Yeah. Get used to that word, Ricky Gee. That's what you are now. Lucky me.

* * *

We took the safest route there, taking our time. My sniper rifle felt like an old friend in my embrace. The babes were good and quiet, though Jo made quite the stink right under my nose, so much so I noticed it not just by Sofia's funny grimace but it actually registered in the ruin of my nostrils. 

It was good to be out again, I have to admit. The one time we ran into a wandering trader though, I noticed a difference. She looked at me and pulled a snooty face then turned and talked to Sofia. I knew that trader, we'd exchanged amicable words several times before. Obviously she didn't recognise me and when I opened my mouth to say something she just said, "I don't trade with shufflers." 

Sofia got real cross and shouted back, "You can keep your fuckin' grody scrap and not to come round River Gorge Homestead again, you racist germ!"

I was equal parts impressed at Sofia's vicious comeback and shocked and mortified at the discrimination. Bobbie started crying. 

The trader realised that our front packs contained babies, then visibly showed a slow, dawning realisation of who I was. She blanched and left with a muttered, "Ghouls everywhere, save us!" 

As if it was catching. 

We walked up the main trail into Foundation. The guards nodded to Sofia and just glanced at me. Ward was just inside, talking duty details with a guard captain. He glanced up, saluted Sofia and actually did a double-take when he saw me. He dismissed the captain and extended a hand.

"My word. Ricky Gee. Come on downstairs, Paige has been asking after you, fella."

I walked quickly to the elevator, head down, little Jo trailing his nappy stench behind us. Ward mumbled that there was a bathroom we could use to sort out the squirt, so I headed there first.

Jen was outside, chatting to Sofia, cooing over little Bobbie with her blue eyes and light chestnut mop. Mouchou joined in the admiration. I cleaned my little kicker up and he giggled at me. Hefting him on my hip, I stepped out, putting my boy down on eager but wobbly feet. Sofia took his hand. Jen saw me and involuntarily put a hand to her mouth then moved it to form a little wave. Mouchou made a gesture I didn't recognise and bowed with her head.

Paige opened his door and called Ward in. Ward took my arm and steered me inside, leaving Sofia and the other women to play with the twins.

Someone closed the door and Paige pulled up a chair. We all sat and then I realised that Penny Hornwright was the fourth person in the room. She was the first to speak:

"Oh my dear Mr. Gee, my commiserations on your…," Ms. Hornwright sighed. "…well. Welcome to the club, I suppose. If you need anything…"

"Thankyou Penny. I 'ppreciate it." All I could do was stare at my feet, not knowing how to take their shock and pity. 

Paige leaned forward and lifted my chin. "Heads up, hero" and with his other hand, tossed a preserved pack of cigarettes into my lap. My lightning-quick reflexes snatched them out of the air but as I caught the smokes, Paige caught my gaze.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, son." The fatherly tone caught me off-guard. "There's plenty of ghouls here who have _you_ to thank for, for letting them live here. It was a close vote but folks who would've kept your kind out have seen what hard workers people like O'Connor and 'Ruckus', heh, sorry, Marlene, have turned out to be. We're all the stronger for it. Ms. Hornwright and Mrs. Mouchou have been welcomed with open arms because of what you did. Ward was nodding.

"My kind…." I said, in a monotone. 

" 'Kind' is the word I'd latch onto there, Gee," Ward commented. "Never have I met a more generous and considerate soul. You've done more for Foundation than we could ever repay. Heck, you'd probably just tell us to keep the caps anyway."

That pulled a laugh out of me, the others too.

Penny put a hand on my knee. "Give it time, dear. We all adjust eventually; not that I'm saying we don't miss…ah…smelling the roses, let's say."

I gave Penny a grateful smirk. This was one helluva war wound but I'd learn to live with it surrounded by people like this. The earlier encounter with the fearful trader was almost forgotten.

I'd like to say it was all rainbows and puppydogs from there on out but life isn't like that. Sure, the people of Foundation were understanding and compassionate. The ghoul section of the community even threw me a dinner, where they really opened up on what life was like being a ghoul. Some of that stuff you really didn't want to hear over food. Even the shy ghoul girl, Ruckus, opened up, albeit with pencil and paper. Turned out she was deaf, never had spoken and was shy to boot but she was eloquent in her support of me and even flirted a bit. I had to tell the poor doll that I was a happily married father of two.

Outside, though…most settlers were nice enough but often it was the scavs and raider bums that really spat anti-ghoul acid like a Mirelurk Queen. That thought that is in every ghoul's mind crept in, like it had for ol' Lou from Crater; 'What if I turn feral? What if I utterly lose myself?' I couldn't afford to do that, I had a family to raise, so I made up my mind to be as Ricky Gee as I knew how.

The evening we got back home, I picked up my guitar, out by the firepit. The twins were safe in bed so Sofia joined me. She sang and I played until we fell in love with each other all over again and she showed me just how much she wanted me still.


	3. Emancipated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief overview of Ricky's last years in Appalachia before leaving to wander new country roads.

Years trundled on by, filled with nurturing, farming, building, friendship and song. I saw less and less of Static, though, the stronger Foundation became. I still made the trip to Crater now and then to keep an eye on the miscreants and watch little Ra-Ra grow. I always wore my Assault Gas Mask and gloves so they'd not see me for the ghoul I'd become. That'd be like throwing a match in an explosives box, you never knew if anything would catch.

I always felt sad that I couldn't really help these people, that they were too damaged to change; now and again, though, Rocksy would ask me to chase down a missing person and 'deal with' them. I always beat the hunters and offered the runaway a new start in Foundation, under Ward's wise wing. Imagine my surprise when one of them turned out to be none other than Ra-Ra. I think she got married to young David in the end. Poor guy had his hands full with that little firecracker but she improved their defences no end.

Roberta was always more like me. A bit headstrong, good with a sniper rifle, agile as farmcat and with a wanderlust we couldn't tame. She started joining me on merc jobs, running bodyguard duty for settlers out scavving, retrieving stolen gear, clearing out workshops and protecting the Blue Ridge Caravan company. 

Eventually she joined the caravan because of Ronnie. They fell in love, eventually moved further north, claiming an old workshop as their home and setting up as traders.

My little Bobbie-pin had three babies. Only one of our grandchildren survived to adulthood, though. Luna. She ended up having to migrate to relative safety and moved to the Capital Wasteland. We had one letter from my great granddaughter before we lost touch.

Joseph grew up, smart like his mom, became a teacher in Foundation for a while and met Decker, the son of a former Brotherhood soldier. They moved back to the farm together when my dear Sofia got on in years. Her mind drifted off a couple years before she did, bless her soul and the boys helped me care for her.

Foundation became a huge Settlement and the Raiders dwindled and divided. I wasn't needed anymore. I left Homestead to Jo and his husband and their stream of foster kids. 

When they passed, I left Appalachia with PIP-boy, my guitar, my pompador wig and a sniper rifle. Like Wanda used to say, I heard that sound. It was the world saying 'hello'. I intended to go say 'hello' right back.


	4. Camouflaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky wanders the Commonwealth and sparks an origin story.

"You stay on the road long enough, shit repeats itself. I lost track of how many blisters I got. Yeah, ghoul skin can still blister, before ya ask. So are buyin' or what?"

The scavver contemplated the three packets of mentats Ricky held out in his hand.

"How about a trade, instead o' caps?" said the balding, blue jacketed scavenger.

"Watcha got?" Ricky asked.

"Irradiated canned goods, oh an' a little square packet of wires. Might make good garottes, if you're in a tight spot." 

The ghoul had shown mild interest in the offered food but that was something he found often enough. The little square packet of wires, though…

"Lemme see that," he demanded. The scavver held them out, upside down. Another one who couldn't read. Another human headed down the path of devolution. The packet read, "D. Williams Inc. Quality Acoustic Guitar Strings"

"A cherry pack o' Dees!" Ricky exclaimed. "Here, you can have all three Mentats an' one more thing beside, what'll it be?"

The scavver, surprised at his good fortune, poked around the assorted junk emptied from Ricky Gee's rucksack. "That a full box o' bobby pins?" 

"Sure is. Yours." He hadn't meant to let his personal supply slip out with the goods but a few trips into womens bathrooms would soon replenish that stock.

The scavver swiped it up before the ghoul could change his mind and hotfoot it out of there, before he could use his new 'garottes'.

Ricky slipped the guitar strings into the secure inner pocket of his now tatty leather jacket, gathered up his tradeables and headed back to the hidden room he was currently calling home. Halfway there, he spotted the bright colours of a jukebox and went over. The dome was smashed, the arm had been removed but the discs looked to be in good condition. He pulled out one after the other, muttering judgement on each. "Crap," he threw one over his shoulder, "Classic," went in his bag, "meh," over the shoulder and so on until most of the contents lay in a small pile behind him but three musical treasures were his.

A short way down the ruined street, he spotted a gaggle of teenagers in the distance trying to shelter in a ruined warehouse from a gang of Supermutants, whose hounds had caught their scent. It was not a secure location and they ought to have moved just one building away but Ricky's keen eyes noticed that they were working away at something. He crouched, going almost invisible and picked off the hounds with his silenced sniper rifle. He padded toward the kids' location, rifle trained until the muties heads were clear. They were still in a state of confusion and hadn't spotted the young gang yet.

Ricky checked the teens again. Their dress didn't suggest a raider upbringing, at least. What they were struggling with, he could now see, was a complete suit of power armour on a frame. It was the girl of the group who was going at it the right way but obviously didn't have the strength to disengage the suit from its hanging chains. The winch wasn't budging.

Ricky checked the mutants again. They'd moved, now he needed to. The only thing was, by moving he would reveal himself to the kids, which would invite questions. He was pretty sure he could free up that power armour for them, though.

"Aww fuckit," he muttered to himself and crept over to them, hands up.

The biggest of the gang spun round, aiming a pipe rifle at him.

"Cool it, kid, I'm yer cavalry," Ricky rasped, slowly raising his sniper rifle toward where the muties were milling around. "I can help get ya off the hook," he said, nodding toward the power armour frame. 

The stocky kid looked toward a slim kid wearing shades, who said, "How do we know you ain't just gonna whip this chassis out from under us, pruneface?"

Gee rankled at the derogatory term but held his tongue. " 'Cause I don't use them tincans anymore. Would keep one or your sorry asses safe, though," he replied.

The kid in shades looked at the girl, who nodded urgently. "Okay," he said. "Would you please get it down for the doll?"

Ricky checked the supermutants. Closer but still none the wiser. "No sweat." He went over, applied a little oil and a lot of muscle and the thing released. The girl slapped a fusion core in the thing and punched the Enter button. It opened like a metallic flower and she gracefully slipped her slim form in.

The loud clunk of the suit attracted the supermutants. "Humaaans!" yelled one and gunfire filled the air. Ricky picked off five in quick succession. He had only counted four initially but more kept coming. The girl moved in front of her gang protectively, firing a shotgun. The four boys fired pipe rifles. One threw a grenade, with skill.

Eight more muties advanced. "Dammit where're they crawlin' out from under?" Ricky muttered. He picked off six, the kids seeing to the other two and another hound.

Then that dreaded beeping. It was close, too close. If the mini nuke was hit from here, they'd all be dead. "CEASEFIRE!" yelled Ricky, taking advantage of the two seconds in which the kids were startled enough to do what he said, not because of the actual command but because he yelled at them, that he took the headshot. 

The brute fell to the ground, bomb intact. 

Ricky padded over to it, his crouch activating the chameleon field. He disarmed it and took it.

No other supermutants, nor hostiles of any type stirred. The kids looted the bodies until their pockets and bags bulged.

The kid with the shades sauntered up to the pompadour wearing, leather jacketed ghoul. "Bitchin'.…that was a kick, Jack. You got a keen eye, there."

"I aim ta please." was Ricky's retort. He turned to go but then his fatherly instinct tugged at him. "You got a pad?" 

"We're drifters," said one of the boys, without convincing Ricky that he was proud of being a drifter.

"I saw this old garage, back a ways. Pretty isolated. Might need to claim it from a bunch o' molerats though," Ricky suggested.

The kids looked unconvinced.

"It has two power frames an' a bunch a old junk chassis in the courtyard, big shed out back. Could be somep'n, one day. Whatd'ya think?"

The girl in the power armour said " _Two_ frames? Zeke, we gotta check this place out."

***  
They arrived at the old Red Rocket. A small horde of feral ghouls had wandered by and got stuck and confused among the scattered wrecked vehicles and bumped up against a wall of scrapped cars, stacked and strapped together.

Molerats, feeling the vibrations, were popping out everywhere. Ricky told the gang to hold fast at one edge and deal with the vermin, whilst he, having spotted a ladder, sprinted up to the high ground, clearing the way for the teens to join him and sniping until every feral ghoul and molerat lay still. 

"So, mister, um…I'm Zeke. I'm the head of this gang. That there is Bluejay," the kid in the sunglasses pointed, "Johnny D., Duke an' our tincan kitty here is Rowdy."

"Hey." Ricky hadn't stayed around anyone for long in years. Names were rarely necessary. For some reason, he felt a connection to these kids, a responsibility for them. Maybe it _was_ time to hang around for a bit. "So where are we, kids?"

"Aside from sitting pretty on a Red Rocket? Somewhere in the Commonwealth, cookie."

Ricky muttered to himself, "Commonwealth o' Massachussetts…long road." His PIP-boy, hidden in the bottom of his rucksack had long ago reached the edge of its inbuilt map. With no signals to update it, Ricky had just kept going, without a guide. He had passed through the Capital Wasteland over a century ago and finding no family, moved on.

He'd slipped into a trance-like existence, surviving, scavving, selling, stalking, sniping.

"So what do we call you?" Duke, the broadshouldered kid asked.

"Do I get to be in your gang?" the ghoul said with a lopsided grin.

The kids gathered into a huddle, muttering among themselves until Zeke straightened up.

"Gang's decided. You're a keeper. Now, got a name?"

"Not fer a long time, kid. Wanna give me a new one?"

Bluejay piped up. "He's a pretty good aim..how 'bout Aimin' Aidy?"

Ricky said, "Knew an Aidy once. He was a candy-ass. I'd prefer Andy."

"Aimin' Andy it is, cat. Welcome to the gang!"

"Well now, an' what gang am I in?" Gee asked.

Rowdy stepped in. "Yeah, Zeke. What gang _are_ we in?" She turned to Ricky (now 'Aimin' Andy') and explained, "We've been tryin' to pick a cool handle for a month now. The guys just can't agree.

"Well _some_ cats don't know greatness when they hear it," complained Zeke.

"Hey, how's about I lay a name on youse?"

"We're listening…" said Zeke on behalf of the group of teens.

"Y'ever read that comic about the feline who got trapped in a nuclear bunker by an evil scientist an' came out a superhero bent on revenge?"

"No man but it sounds cool," Johnny D. said.

"So what was it called?" asked Rowdy.

"The Adventures of Atomcat," Ricky said.

The kids' faces lit up. "The Atom Cats! That's it! Whaddya reckon, cats?" asked Zeke. 

* * *  
That night, they all slept on the roof. Ricky fetched his stash from his temporary hole, restrung his guitar and earned the kids' admiration. Over the following few weeks it was established that the site was as safe as it gets in the Commonwealth. 

Ricky fixed the jukebox and loaded it with the discs he'd picked up along the way. He made sure the gang could all read and write, taught Rowdy all he knew about power armour, protected them with his sniper rifle and helped them find and repair more power armour suits until they had one each…except for Ricky. He had never entered a suit again since his ghoulification.

Remembering Wanda, he started the tradition of Poetry Night. One evening, when the Cats had all survived into their twenties thanks to 'Aimin' Andy', a wave of depression nagged at his relatively happy shore and he wrote this:

'When I die,  
put me in the ground where yellow barrels lie,  
The road I travelled was long and lonely,  
Rads transformed this flutterbum,  
Let them change me again to a flutterbye."

It wasn't long after that that Ricky went down. A mob of Supermutants raided the Atom Cats garage. Thanks to their armour, the kids made it but Ricky took what looked like a mortal blow. He wasn't breathing and they couldn't find a heartbeat.

They buried him as instructed, at a nuclear waste dump a fair distance from the Red Rocket. It took a few days but the rads healed his body and he literally rose from his grave.

He waited two nights, until most of the Cats were away, snuck in to grab his stash and headed off to wander the 'wealth. 

Rest in peace, Aimin' Andy. The Atom Cats could look after themselves, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by this note I found on the Fallout Wiki:
> 
> "Atom Cats garage terminal entries#THE LeGeNd of ZEke- MOrE IdEas: "Chapter in Memoriam of AIMIN' ANDY, the Cat we lost too soon. ANDY found all the rockin' TUNES that we play in the garage to this day. USE THIS LINE: He will live on in our HEARTS and in our JUKEBOX."


	5. Investigated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is now 2294. Ricky Gee has stuck around the Commonwealth, laying low, staying at a discreet distance from the Atom Cats. He witnessed the arrival of the Brotherhood, the destruction of the Institute and has noticed the resurgence of the Minutemen, led by, it is said, 'The Vault Dweller'.

Diamond City. Was that what they were calling the old baseball stadium, now? Very old memories surfaced of coming here as a kid, shortly after moving here with his Mom and Grandpappy…but he'd rather forget about them.

The guard on duty asked him his business in a very professional way, then his manner softened and he said, "Some folks here are still a bit touchy about your type, sir and apologies for that. We had a crazy, racist mayor who banned all ghouls from our Great Green Jewel a while back before it turned out he was a synth and Sentinel-General Hudson booted him out. Still, some folks in the upper stands can still be a bit..well, rude. Just to warn ya." Danny Sullivan opened the gate.

"Noted. Thanks for the heads up."

A shanty town of epic proportions spread before Ricky as he descended the steps. Blue flags with white rifles and lightning bolts fluttered everywhere, with guards walking the paths and people, a lot of people, crowding the shops and stalls.

He asked a woman who had that same insignia on her chestplate where to find a bar. She directed him to stay away from the toffee-nosed Handy upstairs and go and visit Bobrov's instead. 

He found it easily enough and headed straight for the bar.

"Welcome, welcome!" said a slavic voice. "What can I do you for?"

Ricky eased himself down onto a barstool. "You got Pickaxe Pilsner?"

"New one on me, friend. No, we have Gwinnet Ale or maybe something stronger? Bobrov's Best, eh?"

"Ale's fine." Caps clinked onto the counter. Ricky took a swig, _not bad_ he thought, though really he'd lost most of his sense of smell and taste over a century ago. It felt good going down, at least.

"Say, I hear you got a detective in this place. I'm lookin' to hire. Know where I can find him?"

"Sure, sure! Just go right out of here, left down the alley. You'll see his big neon heart sign outside. Some people here, they still say it's an eyesore but me, no, I think it cheers the place up. We all need more cheer, no?"

Ricky tilted his head and lifted hairless eyebrows in an 'I guess so' gesture. He gulped down more Gwinnet. 

"Got rooms for rent too, if you need. Go see my brother Yefim over there. We had to expand after old 'turns-out-I'm-a-synth, Piper-was-right' 'McDonough went. The Minutemen brought an army of settlers to turn the old bleachers into new buildings, you see? Everythingthing changed for the better after the Institute went down. Oh, hello, Hawthorne. Usual?"

Ricky was full of questions but the barman was clearly busy. He held up two gnarled fingers for a second Gwinnet, plonked his caps down and looked for someone to talk to. A female ghoul sitting alone in a corner caught his eye, so he wandered over.

She explained all about synths, lavished praise on Publick Occurances and Piper Wright, filled him in on how the local Brotherhood chapter had merged with the Minutemen and how it had all happened because of 'the man out of time', a defrosted Vault Dweller called Vincent Hudson who was now Sentinel-General and, she added, a lovely man. 

The poor woman must have been starved for conversation. This place was better than many, Gee observed, but still a fear of ghouls seemed to be widespread. It saddened him but he was well used to it by now.

He rented a room for the night and head out to find the detective's office. 

The reddish-pink glow of the sign lit up the darkening alleyway. It wasn't late but getting dark already, clouds scudding across the low fall sun.  
As Ricky drew nearer, he read 'Valentine Detective Agency.'

"Valentine! Wonder if he's a descendant…" Ricky thought out loud. A handyman fixing a pipe nearby replied, "Descendent of a toaster maybe haha! Nah, don't listen to my bad jokes. Nick's an okay guy."

Ricky just gave a puzzled frown, which deepened at the mention of the name 'Nick'.

He opened the agency door. A woman in her early forties stood there behind a desk, dressed in a ratty skirt, folders in hand.

"Hello sir, can we help you? Detective Valentine will be right down."

"Um..yeah. I'm lookin' for someone, maybe several someones."

"A missing persons case?" asked the woman.

"Not exactly…" replied Ricky. 

"Well, do have a seat."

Ricky Gee sat. He ran a hand carefully, habitually, over the side of his pompador to make sure the wig was on straight and smooth. "Mind if I smoke?"

The secretary pulled out a fresh folder. "Not at all. Can I take your name, sir?"

Ricky…that's R, I, Q,…scratch that. R, I, C, K, Y… Gee like the letter, (footsteps descended) G, E, E.

From behind Ricky a voice said, "You gotta be kiddin' me."

Ricky recognised the voice, even after two hundred and twenty three years. "Nick?! he exclaimed as he turned around, then froze.

The two men stood staring at each other for a long minute. Finally, Valentine broke the silence.

"Ghoulified. That would explain it. Bet you grew up to be a heartbreaker too, huh? Sorry, son."

"Nick Valentine? How…I mean, what the hell happened to you, old friend?" 

"Hell happened to both of us, by the look of it, kiddo." Nick walked over to his chair. "Siddown. Ellie, put some coffee on. Hell, make 'em Irish."

The secretary pulled bottles of whisky and cream out of a filing cabinet drawer and put a kettle on the hotplate.

"So how was the walk from Appalachia, Ricky?"

The ghoul laughed, sat back and crossed his ankles. "Took seventy years and a lot of ammo. I've been in the Commonwealth a while, though. Never thought I'd find… how did you end up a _robot_ , man? That's like, crazy."

"Long story short, Nick Valentine got his brain scanned by C.I.T. and I woke up years ago as this. They call us 'synths' - synthetics. I'm somewhat of an old prototype." Nick took out a cigarette and Ricky leaned forward to light it for him. "So what brings you here, Gee?"

Ricky took a deep breath and sighed. "I need you to find my descendants, if I still have any family left alive." 

"Hmm…interesting case. I might need some help with that one."

At that moment, perfectly timed, came a knock at the door. A tall, broad, muscular man let himself in. He had naturally dark red hair, an impressive horseshoe moustache and green eyes. His left eye bore a long scar from the hairline to down below his lower eyelid. His right bore a smaller, diagonal scar across the brow. Upon seeing that Valentine had a guest, he immediately put out his hand.

"Hudson, Sentinel-General," he introduced himself.

"Gee, Ricky. Hold up… you're that 'man outta time?'"

Nick stood up. "Vin, your timing's impeccable. I'd like to introduce you to an old client of mine. Ricky here went into Vault 76 back in, well, twenty seventy six. Ricky, Vincent here's my partner, among other things. He was stuck in…"

"Vault one-eleven. Yeah, Marge at the Dugout filled me in. Cryogenics? That's rough. My wife went through that…"

Ellie had brought a chair for Vincent and made a fourth mug of Irish coffee, which she now handed out.

"You're married? Was she in a vault too..?"

"Yeah and no. She was an astronaut. Commander Sofia DaGuerre," 

Ellie started writing shorthand furiously.

"She went up before the war, crashed down a bit after. I found her."

Valentine put his covered mechanical hand on Ricky's knee. "She's gone, huh?" he said gently. 

"2163. A hundred an' thirty years ago. I got pruned, she just got old. We had two kids, twins, just before I…y'know, turned inta this," Ricky gestured to his face. "Bobbie an' Jo. That's Roberta and Joseph.

Valentine and Vin exchanged a glance. Ellie swapped pens.

"Jo stayed around the Homestead, got himself a boyfriend, cool kid. Helped us with the farmin'. Bobbie went off travellin'. She came back once with a kid an' a husband in tow, then they went up north, to try to get away from the Scorched."

"Scorched?" asked Vin and Nick in unison. 

"Yeah, Ultracite mutations. Appalachian special. Oh, if you go there, you need to drink this." Ricky delved deep into his pack on the floor and brought out a very old looking bottle of Nuka Cola with a coloured label that neither detective had seen before. "It'll vaccinate you." 

Nick looked toward Vin and shrugged. "If you wanna take on the case with me, partner?"

"Sure. I was planning to go farther afield to see what I could scrounge up, anyway. Could be useful."

"It's a long road, cat," Ricky said. 

"Not so much by air, it isn't, friend. We have a long-distance Vertibird," Vin turned aside to comment to Nick, "Ingram's been busy."

Vincent picked up the bottle. "Does it wear off?"

"Nope. Get that down your neck an' you're innoculated for life."

Vin levered the cap off using an edge of the combat armour on his forearm that looked like it had been designed for the job (it had). He had almost downed the lot when Ricky piped up in a slightly raspy voice with a smirk, " 's got my blood in it."

Vin's eyebrows shot up but he swallowed the last mouthful anyway. "Well, you taste good. Shit. Don't tell Mac I said that," he added to Nick. Valentine just huffed and shook his head.

Ricky laughed out loud. "Haha, seriously though, the Overseer an' I had to use my blood in the recipe 'cause I'd already got innoculated. You don't wanna be Scorched. Like a hiveminded feral ran into a crystal explosion. Man, the giant scorched bats were worse. Less o' them nowadays, though, last I heard."

Vin nodded. "Sounds rough. So what are we helping you with, Mr. Gee?"

"I need to find out if I have any family left in this world. Personal reasons, y'all understand."

Valentine suddenly put down his cup a little hard on the table, his bare metal hand scraping against the ceramic. "Hold on now, that doesn't add up," he said to himself.

Vin turned to his partner. "Your thoughts?"

Nick looked into Ricky's very pale blue, ghoulified eyes. "I shouldn't remember you at all, son."

"Well," Ricky responded, "I'd know you anywhere, Nick. You've been with me one way or another almost my whole life. Before I went in the Vault, I stayed at your place, remember? You were real sad back then, tryin' to put on a happy face but I guess you'd just had a breakup or lost someone."

Nick sat back in his chair. "Very perceptive, kid." He paused, the sounds of the city outside winding down from daily bustle to quiet evening cheer. A Diamond City Radio eyebot went past the door, strains of Ella Fitzgerald and the Inkspots' 'Into Each Life, Some Rain Must Fall' making all three men sigh. Ellie just muttered, "Oh my."

Nick cast his eyes to the floor. "Her name was Jenny, my fianceé. Eddie Winter murdered her but we chased him down in the end, Vin and I."

Ricky quickly put two and two together. "So he was…"

"…a ghoul, yeah. Did it to himself." 

Nick changed the subject. "How could I possibly remember the kid, Vincent? Nick met him _after_ he got his brain patterns copied at C.I.T."

Ricky leaned forward. "Sorry Valentine, I've got smog in the noggin here. How come youse talkin' 'bout yourself in third person?"

"I… I thought I was just a copy of the original Nick, downloaded into this prototype synthetic shell. That version couldn't possibly have any memory of you…Giancola." Nick used Ricky's original name to garner a reaction from him by giving him, and himself, proof of the facts. 

Ricky winced at the name then grinned. "See, you remember me just fine. D'you also remember poppin' up outta nowhere an' helpin' me out now and then as I fought my way across Appalachia? Remember the mountain pass with the giant goat thing? The mire swamp an' the floaters? The Ash Heap an' those hordes o' Mole Miners?"

Nick rubbed at his chin with his silicone skinned hand. "Sheepsquatch…Mole Miners…the Grafton Monster…I…I thought I'd dreamt all that…"

Ellie looked genuinely concerned for him. "Nick, are you alright dear?"

Vin put a hand on his shoulder. "I did try to tell you, buddy. I don't know what the hell a Sheepsquatch is but…You ain't a copy."

"Hey, um…maybe I should come back later, Detective. Looks like I just gave you a big pill ta swallow."

Valentine shook his head. "No, son. I'll deal with my personal business on my own time. I've got a case to work. Ellie, more coffee, doll."

"Sure thing, Nick."

Vincent took over the notation whilst Ellie played hostess. Between them they got every detail that Ricky could remember about his grandkids. He even produced a letter from a great grand daughter, the last contact he'd had with family. It was addressed from somewhere in the Capital Wasteland. 

"I can't offer you much hope, realistically," Nick told Ricky. "It's not like births, deaths and home addresses get registered anymore. Best we can do is take a trip there and spend a week lookin' around. If we don't find anything by then, chances are less than slim that we ever will. Still willing to hand over caps on this?"

"Think fast!" Ricky threw a few duct-taped rolls of caps to Nick, who caught them in his better hand. "For expenses, up front. Give me the invoice when you get back."

Vin got up and addressed Nick: "I'll fly up to Sanctuary an' let Mac know I'll be gone for a while." To Ricky, he said: "We can start day after tomorrow. That okay?"

"Neato. Hey, anywhere round here got instruments to play? Preferably with strings?"

Ellie suggested asking Myrna at Diamond City Surplus. They all bid each other goodnight and Vin stepped out first. Ricky went off to his rented room at the Dugout and Ellie went to bed. Nick, however, needed to think. 

He stepped out into the cool night air and headed up to the top roof, a place that used to be totally inaccessible but now boasted a hidden stairway by what used to be the Mayor's office, now refurbished as Council chambers.

The moon was almost full, a few leaves passed across it blown by a sudden gust. For hours, until nearly dawn, Valentine was simply a stationary silhouette, with the flickering glow of a cigarette the only clue to life.

* * *  
The Vertibird threw up dust into the air as it landed. Valentine held his hat firmly on his head with one hand, pistol ready in the other and stepped out. Vincent checked a sturdy strap holding his stowed power armour in place. The pilot turned to him. "Sure you don't need it, Sir?"

"I'll signal you to drop it if I do, Lancer." Vin jumped out of the 'bird and gave the whirling hand signal to take off. The machine flew out of sight.

They weren't too far away from Little Lamplight but still at the very edges of the Capital Wasteland. Mac's old homestead was nearby, too; a sorry looking wooden shack, now home to an old lady and her several cats. 

Vin checked his PIP boy. "About a half a mile that way," he pointed. Valentine nodded and began walking. There was very little out here. The only trouble they ran into was a small group of Raiders, quickly dealt with. Very soon, they saw two wooden shacks, one unkempt, one obviously still lived in. 

Vin approached the door whilst Valentine held back. He knocked, gun ready but lowered, just in case.

Footsteps shuffled up and a wavering voice called out, "Go 'way. I got no more tatos. Y'already took your tithe from me. Come back next moon like y'always do."

Vin spoke calmly to the old man, "We're not Raiders, sir. Just come to ask a few questions, is all. You need any razorgrain? I got a couple cobs ready for planting."

At that news, the rough door creaked open. The face that peered out was as worn as the dry landscape around him. "Razorgrain, you say? Show me." Vincent did so and the old man's eyes lit up. He ushered them in, quickly, giving Valentine a quizzical look.

After a little bartering, they learned that the shack next door had once been home to the Gee family. Josephine Gee had married the old man's friend's son, Matt MacCready. They had had a daughter with beautiful long hair who had run off to become a caravaner.

The old man's eyes shone when Vin produced a beer. "Do you remember the girl's name, old timer?" he asked.

"I may look like a dead tree stump but ma mem'ry's sharp as a bobby pin, young feller. Sweet girl, bit wayward though. Used to bring me brahmin milk of a mornin'. Bonita. Sweet girl. Always remembered ma brahmin milk, she did. Ran off to a caravan though."

"And her folks?" enquired Nick.

"No, no more. Both gone. Just me left here. Even the brahmin up an' died. My turn soon, I 'spect."

They left the old man to enjoy his well earned supplies (of which they left a good deal) and returned to the pick-up spot. 

"Got everything we came for, partner?" asked Nick, knowing full well they had."

"Almost. There's one more bit of proof I'd like to pick up. We need Curie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, the nexus of two stories, where my Fallout 76 OC finally meets my Fallout 4 OC. Valentine is key! 
> 
> I love to read your comments, keep them coming!


	6. Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky's search for his remaining family yields some surprising results.
> 
> Vincent and MacCready, finally reunited, share a tender moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All MacCready dialogue for the rest of this series has, once again, been written by my lovely co-author banquos_ghost (aka woodspurge on Tumblr).

Back in the Commonwealth, the Vertibird touched down close to Diamond City. Valentine jumped down and went back to the agency to change his tie, pick up a couple of items and to tell Ellie that he was just 'popping over' to Sanctuary in the morning, a hike that often took around six hours on a good day.

Vincent waved off the lancer once more and resupplied his ammo from the personal stash in his Diamond City pad. He changed out of uniform and put on his favourite Atom Cats leather jacket to meet Nick and Ricky at the bar later. First, though, he just needed a nap…

Valentine entered the Dugout. "Nicholas, my friend!" Vadim said, already holding a bottle of whiskey and a shotglass out for him.

"Bobrov, I keep tellin' you to keep it short. Just Nick, got that?"

"Oh you say that every time my friend but I just afford you respect, you know, by using your long name."

"It's 'full name', and you'd respect me more if you listened to my damn request, Vadim." Nick turned to knock on room two's door, getting a sympathetic look off Yefim.

"I try to tell him, Nick, I do." 

"Aaahh, nevermind," Nick grumbled.

Ricky answered the door not wearing his pompador wig. He admitted Valentine quickly. Nick said nothing immediately but removed his hat. "Bit more than male-pattern baldness, hey kiddo. Don't need to be self-conscious around me. Hell, half my internals are showing."

Ricky let out a laugh of relief but still turned to the mirror to replace and comb his wig. "She always did love my hair. Got me this when my own fell out. I couldn't be without it."

"I know what you mean. Ellie thinks I found my coat and hat in a dumpster somewhere. I didn't. I went back to my old apartment near BADTFL and stripped 'em off a raider corpse. Someone had been playing 'stick the donkey with a shiv' so I had a bit o' sewing to do. Could've got a less holey one from Fallon's but….this was from _her_. The hat, too. I was wearing them both when we took our road trip, remember?"

"Yeah. You changed my life that day, man. I still remember what I saw through that basement window… but you were there like the Silver Shroud, whiskin' me away to safety."

Nick huffed out a laugh. "Vincent has the original costume, you know that?" 

"Seriously? Cool, man. Sofia made me one. Grognak, too..."

"Now MacCready would appreciate that. He has the axe."

"C'mon now, you're pullin' my leg." Ricky was enraptured.

"Really. The Sentinel-General and his husband are Commonwealth heroes but they're also a gigantic couple of geeks. I secretly adore that about them, though I also thought the shows were pretty terrible. Breathe not a word."

"Heh, no sir, I won't."

Valentine was about to suggest they go to the bar when Ricky asked, "So how _did_ you become the 'Mysterious Stranger', then?"

Nick cocked his head to one side.

"I mean, when you'd show up an' stick a few rounds in whatever I was fightin' then vanish into thin air again?"

Valentine steepled his fingers. "That was after I…after my human body died, wasn't it? Well before they loaded me up into this thing. I don't know, Ricky. I can find no logical, rational explanation for it; why I appeared to you at all, why those ghostly bullets even had any effect. I don't understand how I **remember** you at all. It's infuriating."

"I got a clue, man. Now, I never was religious or nothin' but I always had a feelin' that there's somethin'…intangible. Somethin' we're a part of, like we're the notes that make up the melody. I don't know…anyway, maybe it was that part of us folks call soul. If that machine that scanned you somehow broke off a piece an' that bit just stayed near ya, floatin' around, observin'. Who knows what electromags an' radiation really does ta us anyway. Could be that those nukes destroyed more'n what we see. Like, ruined the instrument we're all bein' played on?"

"You always were a deep thinker, huh, Ricky? Ever visit Walden Pond?"

"Thoreau's Cabin? Yeah."

"The most important four walls in the Commonwealth."

"Now we're cookin'. You're a real gone cat, y'know."

Nick just smiled his understanding. He remembered being there when Ricky had needed him the most. It hadn't been dreams. He had indeed been Ricky Gee's 'Mysterious Stranger'.…which also meant that he had never been 'just a copy'. As much as it stung his heart, he really was Jenny's Nick Valentine.

Someone rapped on the door. "Hey Ricky, want a beer?"

Ricky Gee, dressed in a leather jacket, tee and jeans, opened the door. When he let Valentine out first and then turned to close the door behind them, Vin exclaimed.

"Atom Cats?" A faded picture of a mushroom cloud with a mischievous looking feline smoking a cigarette adorned the back of Ricky's jacket. 

"You know 'em?" he enquired.

Vin turned his back to Ricky to reveal the exact same design, only clearer and unfaded. "I _am_ one, man! Where'd you get your skin?"

Ricky chuckled. "Let's get a drink an' I'll tell ya." Vadim was on the case. He had already pegged each man's favourite drink - whiskey all round - and Vin started to pull a cigar out of his case. Nick's metallic hand discreetly halted that. Whilst Ricky was knocking one back, Nick quietly explained with a ''..tell you later' and offered him a Grey Tortoise instead. Vin accepted, though he didn't much like them, they did remind him of Mac, who he desperately wanted to get back to.

"Well?" Vincent asked, intrigued by the jacket.

"I designed it. I started it. The Atom Cats. Remember that comic, The Adventures of Atomcat? Loved it. Few years ago when Zeke an' co were just kids, I gathered 'em up and protected 'em for a while. I never gave 'em my real name so Zeke started callin' me Aimin' Andy, on account o' my sniper skills."

"Must be a family trait…" Vin hadn't meant to let that slip.

"What? So…you found something? Someone?" Ricky perked up suddenly, his sunken, pale blue eyes going wide. He rubbed at a long-departed beard, smoothing the very few hairs that had defied radiation.

"We'll be going up to Sanctuary together tomorrow, kiddo," Valentine revealed. "My partner Vin here needs to run a little medical test before we can be sure and present our findings. Is that okay?"

"Sure, yeah, like, cool. Hey, just…don't tell Zeke an' the gang that you saw me. They…kinda think I died an I'd prefer to leave it that way. You feel me?"

"Of course," Vincent replied. " On my honour."

"You're _good_ Brotherhood, hey. Roger Maxson was too, at least to begin with. Technically, y'know, I'm a BOS boy too. Other things beside. Atom Cats was the one thing _I_ created for people." He took a drag on his cigarette. "Keep 'em cool for me, Daddy-O."

Hawthorne strained backward from his perch behind them. "Most people call him Sentinel-General or just plain 'sir', music man. How'd you get to be so familiar?"

"Because I let him," Vin replied.

Valentine added, "Now keep those ears to yourself, Hawthorne an zip it, got it?"

Hawthorne just grinned and ambled wonkily out of the door. Ricky Gee went back to his room and brought out an acoustic guitar, to which Vincent, Valentine and the rest of the bar listened until well after midnight.

* * *

Mac heard the vertibird come down just north of Sanctuary, onto the landing pad they'd built on top of Vault 111's entrance. Duncan was with his little aunt so he ran up the path to greet his husband alone.

He knew that it must be Vin returning, there was no way it could be anybody else. He was an expert with his prosthetic leg, barely knew it was there. Despite this, the sudden burst of speed had left him out of breath. Mac didn’t want Vin to see him panting, well not until later anyway. He smiled at the thought and regretted nobody would hear his brilliant bon mot. He had planned meticulously his greeting to his returning husband, but upon seeing Vin relief washed over him and his first words were, ‘What took you so long?’ he shouted. Completely unrehearsed but heartfelt nevertheless.

But instead of even looking his way, Vincent, with Valentine and another figure in tow, headed straight for the clinic.

‘Hey, Vin!’ Mac bellowed at the top of his lungs, starring after them goggle-eyed. Happiness and anger fought a tug of war in his head, although anger was definitely in the ascendant. He watched the retreating figures, willing Vin to turn around.

Vin held up a hand in the 'hold back' gesture. He was clearly a man on a mission. He said something to Valentine who nodded, split off and walked towards MacCready.

The synth detective reached him and shook his hand.

"Good to see you, Robert." Nick had insisted on using Mac's first name since he and Vin had finally got married. It was something that Vincent had taken a long time to come round to. After Nora, the idea of re-marrying (or rather, the fear of losing another spouse) had been something Vin had shied away from. It was only after Shaun's transition into an adult synth body almost a year ago that Vin had changed his mind…but that's another story.

Whilst Nick fended MacCready off, so as not to ruin the surprise if the testing was successful, Vincent took Ricky straight to the clinic. He knew that Curie would be around as she was working on an innoculation for the brahmin.

"Curie? Proctor Curie?" Vin shouted as he jogged up the steps to her office.

" _Oui_! Sentinel-General, sir!" Amèlie Curie smiled warmly. "Vincent, it is good to see you, _mon amie. Excusez-moi,_ I am just finishing a batch of vaccine for ze poor brahmin. We finally discovered what was turning their milk green. In a week or so we shall 'ave fresh milk, then cream and butter!"

Vin's tastebuds watered at the memory of real dairy. "You have no idea how good that sounds, Curie but right now I have another job for you."

" 'Ow can I be of service?"

"Remember you were talking about DNA tracing in ghouls last month?"

"Oh, yes! I sink I 'ave solved the ribonu…"

"Well I need you to try it out."

Curie raised her eyebrows at the interruption but then noticed the pompador-wearing ghoul behind him, waving.

"This is Mister Gee," Vin explained. "I need you to take a sample from him and one from Mac then compare them…without telling MacCready any details. Just say," Vin frowned and waved his hand vaguely, "…it's a routine check or somethin'. Get me results a s.a.p."

"Yes sir! _Je suis intrigué…_ Monsieur Gee, if you would sit 'ere I will draw a little blood. Sentinel-General, if you would fetch your dear 'usband along in say, twenty minutes, I shall get on immediately with the test. Results should be, oh, an hour after that."

Ricky sat, removed his leather jacket and re-rolled his right t-shirt sleeve. Curie noticed the faint remains of a tattoo on his arm. His ghoulish skin looked as if it had just healed from terrible burns. In truth, it was in a constant cycle of decaying and healing. It was a wonder any ink remained at all. A faded flower bore the legend '..uck..' with the faint corners of two dice above. Ricky noticed her looking.

"Yeah…that used to say 'Lucky'. Had an ace o' spades and two dice with dots fer seven an' six. Seventy six, the old Vault. Now…well it just about sums up ghoulification, don't it?"

Curie gently drew his blood. "I do not find it repulsive, Monsiuer Gee, only scientifically curious. Some people who are pretty on the outside are ze ones who are repulsive within, _non _? There. All done. If you would proceed to ze..the.. café, go behind this building along the track, to the tree. Wait there please. Here, a token for a drink. Someone will meet you there in an hour." Curie had been working to overcome her strong French accent for a while. Ricky, perceptive guy that he was, noticed her efforts and smiled encouragingly. Curie may have blushed a little…__

__* * *  
‘Yeah, yeah, good to see you too, Valentine.’ MacCready tried not to snarl. That was the pleasantries dispensed with, now to get to the nitty-gritty. ‘What’s going on?’_ _

__"Just a minor medical thing, kid. You'll be called up soon. Say, Duncan round here? I brought the kid a new book. Got a toy for your baby sister, too."_ _

__‘Yeah, Duncan’s with Roberta, at Jun and Marcy’s house. Do you want me to take the gifts down to them or are you heading that way yourself?’ Mac’s mind turned back to Vin, he had been walking so it couldn’t be too serious, but why had Vin blanked him like that? Probably nothing sinister. Nick wouldn’t lie to him, not about something like that._ _

__"Let's both go, shall we?" Nick saw Mac's worry through his blue eyes.  
"Hey, Mac. Vin's fine," Nick drawled. "He won't be long, honest. Now what say we go vist those two squirts?"_ _

__‘Eurgh, yeah, I s’pose.’ Mac looked wistfully back towards the clinic before turning on his heel towards Sanctuary._ _

__Jun opened the door, smiling. The kids barged past him to see Mac and Nick. Valentine handed Duncan a well-preserved Boy's Own Adventures book and a pristine Mr. Fuzzy with a gold bowtie for little Bobbie. She was elated and gave uncle Nick a big, tato-soup stained kiss on his cheek._ _

__Duncan stepped forward to thank Nick. He felt awkward dispensing kisses and hugs now he was almost grown up. He stuck his hand out towards Nick. ‘Thank you Nick. I hope you are well?’  
MacCready felt a glow of parental pride at his son’s display of manners._ _

__They went inside, Nick telling Duncan that yes, he was quite well thankyou. Jun brought coffee._ _

__A short while later, there came a knock at the door._ _

__"It's Pop!" yelled Duncan who had got to the white wooden front door first._ _

__"Hey, MacDunc!" Vincent picked up his young step-son effortlessly and gave him a brief squish before setting him down. "Is Dad there?"_ _

__Duncan ran inside, momentarily returning with MacCready, who was holding young Roberta on his slim hip. The six year old girl grinned and waved at her 'uncle' (but technically brother-in-law) Vin, then jumped down and scampered off, back to Mr. Fuzzy's tea party. Nick appeared, to usher both kids away from the front door and give the re-united couple some space._ _

__Sentinel-General Vincent looked at his Paladin-Major, his companion of many years. His best friend. His husband._ _

__"Hey, Hero," he said, his tone submissive and almost apologetic._ _

__Mac couldn’t stay mad at Vin for long, not when he was looking at him like that. He was still owed an explanation though, for the lack of the rapturous reception at the vertibird landing. ‘Hi Vin,’ Mac mumbled. ‘I missed ya. Are you ok?’ Vin certainly looked ok, but there was still the little matter of why he had needed to report to the clinic._ _

__"I'm fine, this ain't about me, Mac it's…look, I can't say yet. Confidentiality stuff, the case Nick an' I are workin' on. You know I'd tell you if I could, lover. I need you to visit Curie with me, just a quick vampire-bite, that's all." Vin tried a half-smile to try and put his lover at ease about getting blood drawn._ _

__Seeing Vin’s attempt at a smile Mac’s anger softened. They hadn’t even hugged yet! He stepped forward and embraced the larger man. He’d missed the comforting heft and warmth of his lover and feeling him in his arms again was the best feeling in the world. Reluctant to break off the embrace, but recalling Vin’s request that they visit Curie, Mac whispered into Vin’s ear. ‘Did you want visit Curie now or later?’_ _

__"In a moment, Mac. I'm enjoyin' this hug. Sorry if I stink."_ _

__Vin ended the hug with a quick squeeze and led the way. Curie was ready and waiting, Ricky having safely gone out of sight. Vincent didn't want to have to explain the ghoul stranger before he had all the facts. He suspected that Mac knew he was keeping something from him; if he'd ever taken a G.O.A.T. test, Vin suspected that his husband's Perception score would have been sky-high, not just for spotting faraway targets but for the more emotionally intelligent sort of perception, too._ _

__"Bonjour, Paladin-Majeur. 'Ow are you today?"_ _

__‘I’m good thanks, all the better for having the Sentinel-General back safe and sound.’ Mac winked at Curie, his mood was improving by the second._ _

__"Just a routine random health check, sir," Curie grinned sweetly. "I may even 'ave a lollipop for you afterward!" She winked._ _

__‘Ow!’ Mac grinned ruefully as he stroked his arm. ‘Make with the lollipop then, Curie.’ He held out his hand expectantly. As he waited, not really expecting anything other than to be shooed away he smiled conspiratorially at Vin. ‘Dunc’s gonna be staying at the Long’s for tea, so looks like we can have a proper reunion…… Once I’ve got my lollipop.’  
Mac guffawed as Curie rolled her eyes._ _

__She turned away and back again, actually producing a Nuka Orange flavour candy._ _

__Vin tentatively put his arm around Mac's shoulders, having picked up on the fractious, though receding, vibes.  
"Well then, come on, love. Let's go and enjoy havin' the house to ourselves for a while, eh? Then maybe visit the bar in an hour or so?" Vin strained his head around as they walked through the door.  
"Curie, have those results delivered to Nick. " _ _

__Curie gave a funny, hesitant little salute. She'd been a Brotherhood Proctor for years now but still found the military formalities rather alien._ _

__Mac's face lit up like a little kid as he popped the boiled sweet into his mouth, leaving the stick poking out like one of his customary cigarettes. The two men ambled down the street toward their home._ _

__"My good ear tells me that ankle bearing is squeakin' again. You're gonna have to take it off when we get in so as I can fix it for ya." Vincent lowered his voice as they passed some farming settlers. "That's not all you're gonna have to take off…"_ _

__Vincent unlocked the green front door and sighed. "Man, it's good to be home."_ _

__Mac felt pride as Vin stepped into the lounge. He had kept the house in immaculate condition, wanting it to be perfect for Vin’s return. Hell, there was even a bunch of hubflowers in a little vase. ‘Please, Vin, take a seat, you must be exhausted. Can I get you anything? Drink? Cigarette? Cigar?’ Mac fussed around Vin, such was his delight at having his husband return to him._ _

__"That leg, a 3/4 inch, five minutes in the workshop and you waiting in the bedroom with whiskey and a cigar. Please." Vin smiled lopsidedly. "I wanna get this tinkering outta the way so's I can wash up. Place looks good," he added._ _

__“Thanks Vin, just relax now, I’ll get things organised for you.” Mac hastily poured the whiskey into two well-preserved cut-glass tumblers and tucked two cigars into his pocket and carried them through to the bedroom. Better to do this before he gave Vin his foot, which had been his first instinct. Would have been arse about face to have to grab his crutch and slosh the drinks around one at a time. Having completed the task he plonked himself down next to Vin on the couch, his thigh resting against Vin’s much broader one. A swift well practiced movement and he presented his prosthetic limb to Vin. ‘Be gentle with it, please Vin, I’m used to how it is now.’_ _

__Vincent Hudson carefully took the prosthetic limb that he had fashioned from a scavenged Gen 2 synth and placed it on the couch next to him. He gently slid his fingers into the top of the green sock that protected MacCready's stump and slowly slid it off, examining the end of the amputated limb._ _

__"Doesn't look red, no sores…good. The suspension adjustment worked, then. 'Course I'll be gentle. It's part o' you, love." Vin swiftly lifted Mac's leg to plant a fleeting kiss on its end, picked up the prosthetic and strode out to the garage. He called out behind him, "Bedroom, five minutes!"_ _

__A further shout: "Did you see my three quarter inch... never mind. Duncan put it back in the wrong box again."_ _

__Mac tutted to himself, Vin had asked him about that and he’d clean forgotten. Oh well, never mind, he had other things he needed to be getting on with. He made his way slowly through to the bedroom. Mac slipped his top layers of clothing off, but retained his undergarments, some strange prudishness uncharacteristically manifesting itself. Or maybe he was just feeling a little cold, yeah, that was probably it. He grabbed one of the whiskey tumblers and delicately sipped a small amount, just enough to create a little glow of warmth._ _

__In the garage, Vin realised that he was still wearing assorted combat armour. He quickly shed and stashed it, returning his focus to the job at hand. It took but a moment to pop the casing off the footplate so he could access the squeaky bearing. Nudging the bearing housing back in place until it clicked and applying a little oil, he put the whole thing back together in three minutes flat._ _

__Wiping the oil off his hands with a rag reminded him that he needed a proper wash, with soap and water before rejoining his waiting spouse. Carrying the precious leg with him, he popped his head around the bedroom door to place it in its customary accessible resting place. "One minute!" he declared and disappeared back into the bathroom._ _

__Sanctuary now boasted running hot water, drapes at the windows and working toilets in every home. This particular bathroom was not the one he'd stared into the mirror of on that horrifying, historic morning over two hundred years ago. No, though he hadn't left Sanctuary Road, he _had_ moved a few doors down, into the house he'd fixed up for MacCready and Duncan. Bless old Codsworth but his programming had locked him to the old address, unless he was ordered to accompany the Sentinel-General on missions. Vin could hear him down the street, complimenting Sturges on his geraniums._ _

__A quick wash turned into an all-over spongebath, hairwash and shave. After fifteen minutes, Vin strode into the bedroom rubbing his bright auburn hair with a towel and wearing nothing but a grin._ _

__“Finally!” Mac exclaimed, looking up from his tumbler, which now contained a few paltry millilitres of liquid. “Thought you’d gone off on another mission without me.” Mac was trying not to whine but the sip of whiskey had turned in another then another, and drink made Mac more vocal than ever about perceived slights._ _

__"Sorry. I had more country road all over me than I'd realised. Some o' that white dirt gets everywhere." Vin draped his damp towel over the back of a chair. "I missed you so much. Appalachia was pretty, for the most part. I just wished you were there with me."_ _

__Vin lowered himself onto the bed slowly, his old back injury a little sore. He took the hem of Mac's vest and rolled it very slowly upward, placing kisses on every revealed inch until he reached the neckline and Mac had to lift his arms for Vincent to remove the barrier entirely.  
"Share that whiskey?" he asked._ _

__“I think I’ve probably had enough.” Mac said apologetically, “but feel free to play catch-up. Yours is on the table there.” He gesticulated as best he could whilst Vin was in the midst of kissing him._ _

__Vin reached out and knocked back the drink in one. He kissed MacCready's neck and wrapped strong, bearlike arms around him. The scent and touch of his true love had a speedy effect._ _

__"Oop. Ya just raised the Minuteman flag, R.J.!" The warm solidity of his passion pressed against Mac's thigh, his stupid banter a poor disguise for the deep love he needed to express._ _

__Mac surrendered himself to the enjoyment of Vin’s caresses, enjoying a few moments of passivity as he lay in larger man’s arms. “I really missed you Vin, pleased don’t leave me so long again.” In the enveloping warmth of Vin’s love he was able to make heartfelt requests, which would have felt awkward and needy outside the uninhibited atmosphere of the bedroom._ _

__"You know I can't promise…" Vincent kissed MacCready's jawline, "but I'll do my best, hero."_ _

__“That’s all I can ask…” Mac trailed off as he started to return Vin’s kisses. His hands started roaming over the familiar body next to him, exploring all the parts that he knew would give Vin pleasure._ _

__Vincent shifted, taking advantage of sitting in the spot where Mac's foot once was to get a little closer._ _

__"Let's get these shorts off, huh? They're gettin' in my way." Vin paused, seeing the fabric suddenly. "Where the heck did you get Mr. Pebbles boxers?"_ _

__“Jealous?” Mac chuckled. “Sorry Vin, not sure they made ‘em in your size.” Mac’s chuckle turned to a low growl as the boxers dropped off the side of the bed to the floor._ _

__Any repartee Vin might have replied with fell to the floor with the underwear. He closed his lips gently around his lover's waiting erection and tenderly pleasured him._ _

__Mac sighed softly as Vin worked his magic. He hadn’t realised how much he needed this, how wound up he had been, the thousand and one trivial daily trials at Sanctuary all receded as he gave himself up to pleasure._ _

__Vin could feel Mac shudder and gasp, then his mouth was filled with warm, sweet liquid. He swallowed._ _

__"Whisky chaser, huh?" Vincent grinned mischievously at his husband. It had taken him a good couple of years to get really comfortable with making love to another man. All his young adult life, he'd been aware of other guy's good looks but society had firmly steered him towards dating girls. Of course, he found both equally arousing, he just hadn't fully realised his true orientation until he'd met MacCready._ _

__Mac grinned back at his husband. He had barely recovered before he decided to return the favour. He pushed Vin back down on to the bed, and started to shower his chest with kisses, working his way inexorably downwards._ _

__Vin allowed himself to fully relax onto his back. He ran his thick, strong fingers through MacCready's equally thick, strong hair. In between gasps of pleasure, he just had to ask,_ _

__"D'you secretly use pompade on this amazing hair or does it really just grow like that?" Vin knew that Mac had a couple of wasteland recipes for shaving foam and deodorant up his sleeve. Gone was the ever-grubby merc and in his place stood someone who finally, truly cared about himself because he was truly cared for._ _

__Mac ignored Vin’s question. It was one of the things he loved about Vin, his propensity to crack dad jokes and talk nonsense during sex. Mac blamed it on Vin’s previous anxiety around making love with another man, whilst Vin was comfortable now old habits died hard and sometimes Vin still spouted nonsense when they were being intimate. They could discuss his hair later, right now he wanted to render Vin speechless._ _

__MacCready's tongue teased a sensitive nerve and Vin felt the rush of his passion expressed. Right at that very moment, something rattled in the house._ _

__Moments later, scratchy paws ran right into the bedroom and a a sudden, heavy weight flopped onto them both._ _

__“Dogmeat!” Mac bellowed at the unrepentant dog. Good job he hadn’t come in a few minutes earlier, Mac wondered if he had been waiting outside for ‘business’ to conclude. Now there was a passion killing thought. Mac chuckled and shared his thoughts with Vin when he looked at him askance._ _

__Vin just rolled his eyes. "Dogmeat, how'd you get in?"_ _

__"Dogflap…" reminded MacCready._ _

__"Good to see you, ol' buddy! Who's not such a good boy, jumping on his dads like that, who isn't?" Vin's tone nevertheless brimmed with joy at seeing the old, grey whiskered Alsatian._ _

__"Guess that's our cue. What time is.. owp. We'd better agitate the gravel."_ _

__“Sounds painful, and pointless? What are you talking about Vin?” MacCready laughed, at least getting the general gist that they needed to get out of the bed and back into their discarded clothes, although goodness knows where Vin had put his, having entered the room sporting just a towel._ _

__"You know, when you hit the accelerator so hard the tires throw gravel…oh. You don't know. Sorry RJ, sometimes I forget…" Vin's face darkens momentarily as images of the past flicker through his mind. Mac would have loved fast cars._ _

__He ruffled Dogmeat's ears as he told him to get off the bed and stood up himself, grabbing Mac's prosthetic foot without a thought and handed it to him._ _

__He reached into the closet and pulled out a fresh whitish t-shirt, a pair of loved jeans with the bottoms rolled up and his Atom Cats leather jacket._ _

__Mac thought he better put on fresh clothes too, and he rummaged around in his side of the closet. He chose a plaid shirt and a pair of jeans. Standing admiring himself in the mirror he called Vin over and demanded that he stand next to him. The mirror was barely large enough for one person, but Mac craned his neck to get a better view. ‘What a great looking pair we make!” he proclaimed._ _

__Vin nipped into the front room and returned holding one hand behind his back, then stood close to Mac and plonked his trademark green hat on his head. "Don't forget this, handsome," he said. He put an arm around his husband and smiled. "Yeah, we are a couple of cool cats, huh?" He gave Mac one more tender kiss on the lips and moved toward the door, patting his thigh for Dogmeat to follow as he knew the old mutt would only whine if he was left behind… _not unlike MacCready,_ he thought cheekily to himself._ _

__Just over an hour after they'd got home, the couple re-emerged. They turned left to walk the short distance to the Two Flags bar. Neon lights shone out, competing with the beautiful sunset. The sound of an acoustic guitar being played expertly and a singer whose voice was smooth and gravelly at the same time floated out upon the breeze. Mac didn't recognise the song but Vin did. He'd heard it before the war, of course, but also more recently over his PIP-boy radio during the trip._ _

__Within, Vin spotted Valentine at the bar, whiskey in hand. Nick gave his partner a nod of confirmation and glanced over at the musician._ _

__MacCready spotted the unspoken communication and followed Nick's gaze. Sitting on a stool, sat facing mostly away from him was a guy in a very faded Atom Cat jacket, wearing a pompador that was clearly a good quality wig and strumming the last chord on a deeply scratched but lovingly polished guitar._ _

__Vin had stepped over to Valentine and was reading a printout. He addressed the ghoul musician and called Mac over to share a secluded table together._ _

__The Sentinel-General shook the ghoul's hand. "Ricky, this is my husband, Paladin-Major Robert Joseph MacCready."_ _

__"Mac, this talented gentleman is Comman…"_ _

__"Ricky Gee, kid. Drop the titles, cat," interjected the ghoul._ _

__Vin gave a half-smile and nodded. Looking over to his beloved companion, he finally explained, "He's your Great, great, great, great, great Grandfather." Vince waved the bit of paper, "DNA test here to prove it." He smiled at Mac. "Cat's outta the bag now."_ _

__Mac’s jaw dropped, and he remained agape for many seconds, “Wha????” It didn’t happen often, but Mac was rendered speechless. If this was true then Vin was going to have his whole family tree accounted for soon._ _

__Ricky Gee held out a gnarled hand. "Not afraid to shake hands with a ghoul are ya, son?" he asked._ _

__MacCready answered Ricky’s question with actions rather than words. He stepped forward and enveloped the ghoul in a hug. “I trust that answers your question?” He added rather superfluously. “Need a top-up?” He gestured at Ricky’s empty glass. “Once we’re all sorted for drinks and smokes you can tell me just what the heck is going on. Oh, and it’s nice to meet you great, great, great, great…. ” Mac’s voice petered out as he tried to work out how far back to go._ _

__The ghoul hugged him back with genuine affection. "There's too many Clydes out there 'fraid of us wrinklies." Ricky pulled back to get a good look at his descendent but held on to his arm companionably. "I'll take a beer, whiskey, Nukashine, whatever's your poison." Ricky Gee grinned. "How 'bout ya just call me Gramps, huh son?"_ _

__Valentine waved over the barkeep of The Two Flags. Vincent sat silent with a satisfied smile on his face and Dogmeat thumped the floor with his tail, until a young Minuteman put a bowl under his nose, then there was noisy sloshing _and_ wagging._ _

__“So, urm, Gramps,” Mac turned to Ricky, “how did you meet Vin, and what are you doing here?” He had so many questions to ask and feared the questions might be too direct. However, the thought of sitting in the bar making small talk was excruciating when he really wanted to get to the bottom of how an ancient relative of his was sitting opposite him as if it was the most natural thing in the world._ _

__"Where to start… how's about tellin' me what your preferred handle is? The Sentinel-General here told me your name an' I grinned wider'n I have in years. You see, my twins were called Roberta an' Joseph…Bobbie an' Jo…" the ghoul's smile fades briefly, then lopsidedly returned._ _

__“You can call MacCready or Mac, whichever you prefer. I’ll answer to most things, even to Robert sometimes. I urm, I’m glad you like my name anyway.” MacCready felt strangely awkward. He felt Valentine’s and Vin’s eyes were upon him, along with half of the bars other patrons and he wasn’t comfortable to be the focus of attention, not when the topic of conversation was such an emotional one. “Anyway, Gramps, please can you tell me more?”_ _

__"You wanna go somewhere more private, Mac? You got the Zorros, I can tell."_ _

__Vin stood up, "I got this." He addressed the room of about eight or so Minutemen, settlers and a Brotherhood Scribe off-duty. "Hey folks, mind giving us the room? Drinks on me tomorrow night."_ _

__Ricky watched, obviously impressed with Vincent's kind authority. He turned back to MacCready. "I've lived a very, very long life. I lost touch with family and needed to reconnect, I guess. I mean, the family I made, not the one I came from._ _

__Mac nodded, he knew exactly what that felt like, up until his sister Roberta was born he had thought Duncan was the only relative that he had in the world. He had also made a family, first at Little Lamplight and then in the Commonwealth._ _

__Ricky Gee sighed. "Guess the best place to start'd be at the beginning, hey cat? So I was born in twenty sixty-five in New York City. Ma was Spanish, came to America with only her looks. She met Pappy, Italian-American gangster, son of the infamous Cidro 'The Cigar' Giancola."_ _

__Vin not so subtly put away the handful of cigars he'd just pulled out and Valentine, with perfect timing, began to offer around his pack of Grey Tortoise cigarettes. Ricky didn't miss a thing._ _

__"Heh, I used ta hate the smell 'cause o' Grandpappy. Turns out becomin' a ghoul ruins your olfactories," he said, pointing to the remains of his nose. Don't let me stifle the stogies, though._ _

__Vincent drew one for himself, relieved. He loved a good cigar and had not had a chance to partake at home. Mac accepted a cigarette from Nick and a flame from Vin._ _

__"So, ahh…yeah. When I was like, four or five, Pappy got himself killed. Grandpappy moved us all up ta Boston. I did some schoolin' but they took me out when I turned ten, gave me my first pistol - real one, mind, not a pop-gun - an' taught me how to drive. Heh, they had to duct-tape blocks to the pedals - you know, so you could make the thing go?"_ _

__Vin interjected: "Yeah, I've told Mac about driving cars."_ _

__Nick added, "I don't miss the traffic…"_ _

__"I was never drivin' through rush-hour…ten year old get-away driver, remember," he replied to Nick. "So anyway." Ricky stopped suddenly, taking and lighting Nick's proferred cigarette, gathering himself._ _

__"I was waitin' outside on a job when I needed a whizz. Got out, went down the alley an' saw my so-called family doin' things ta people no child should ever see..."_ _

__Ricky paused again and Nick laid his good hand gently on his forearm. Ricky swallowed and continued._ _

__"I ran to the hothouse,"_ _

__Vin saw Mac's confused face and translated,o "Police station."_ _

__"Yeah, that one in Cambridge. They talked to me a lot then eventually this Dick shows up," he puffed his cigarette and gestured toward Nick._ _

__"Saved my life, he did. Well, back when we were both still human. Valentine here got me all the way ta Appalachia, tucked me safe 'n' sound in Vault Seventy-Six. Skip forward a couple centuries, I needed a Detective to find my family, ended up finding Valentine, the first guy who ever really gave a crap about me."_ _

__Ricky took a long swig of his drink. "Now son, I don't wanna bash your ears though I did come lookin' to tell my story to my kin. Y'all can ask me anythin', ya dig? Tell me about yerself."_ _

__“Not much to tell really,” Mac started hesitantly. “Grew up in Little Lamplight in the Capital Wasteland. Little Lamplight was kids only, no mungos.” Mac looked at Ricky’s quizzical expression, and expanded on this theme, “Mungos- adults. I was the mayor, but at 16 ya have to leave. I left with Lucy, who became my wife. Had a kid – Duncan- he lives here with us now. Umm, Lucy didn’t make it….’ Mac still found it painful to talk about his dead wife so he swiftly moved on, “Duncan was ill, I came out to the Commonwealth trying to find the cure to his illness, joined the Gunners, left the Gunners, became a solo mercenary. Got hired by this guy” He jerked his thumb towards Vin, “And long story short, he saved me.” MacCready took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his seat, inviting questions._ _

__"So…you and the big guy here are…?" Ricky asked._ _

__“I lost count of the Grands anyway,” MacCready shrugged. “Yep, me and Vin are married, he’s my family now, Vin, Duncan and Shaun. And my sister Roberta, who was adopted by a couple named Jun and Marcy Long, she lives in Sanctuary too.”_ _

__"Hold up, so I have a great etcetera grandson an' grandaughter an' great great grandson an stepson?" Ricky choked up. "This is more'n I hoped for. Do I get to meet the kids, d'you think?"_ _

__“Well I don’t see why not, if you’re planning on hanging around town for more than a day or so it’s inevitable anyway, it’s quite a small place and everyone knows everyone. The kids in this settlement are always curious about strangers in the town. I’m sure Duncan would love to hear you on that guitar. You’re pretty good on it too.” Mac looked to Vin for confirmation._ _

__Vincent nodded. "Sure thing, Gee. You can meet the kids tomorrow. We can put you up in the barracks for a few days, my men'll gladly make room. Oh an' Ricky, you gotta hear Mac sing. Back in the day, he'd a been bakin' biscuits!_ _

__"Cool. Hey, by the way, I'm straight as a yardstick though my son Joseph had a boyfriend; Deckard, his name was. I'm old enough to know love ain't ruled by what's between your legs nor what you look like but what's in here." He tapped Mac's chest. "My Sofia…oh my Spacekitten…she carried on lovin' me even after I got nuke-baked."_ _

__Mac was loath to ask what had happened to Sofia, he knew that he hadn’t wanted to talk about Lucy, at least not yet. Ricky might feel the same, if he wanted to tell, then he would. Mac instead rushed to repudiate Vin’s fulsome praise of him, “Well, I can hold a note I s’pose. Vin’s a bit biased though!”_ _

__Valentine chipped in. "Robert here's being too modest. He's a real crooner."_ _

__"Then we'll try those pipes an' these strings together tomorrow, son. Sofia used to love my music. Y'know why I called her Spacekitten?"_ _

__Mac couldn’t even begin to guess, and a sarcastic rejoinder seemed inappropriate, so he meekly shook his head._ _

__"She was an astronaut! No kidding! She'd been a popsicle like your husband here - yeah, he mentioned that briefly - an' she was froze an' floatin' up there among the stars while the world went to hell…yeah…then she came crashin' down an' I picked up her distress signal on my old PIP-boy." Ricky held up an uneencumbered wrist.  
I got to be the knight in shinin' armor…'cept she was the shiny one in her spacesuit. Here, I have a picture o' us." The ghoul reached into an inside pocket in his leather jacket and pulled out a faded, worn photograph._ _

__A woman with a South-American complexion, black rimmed glasses and dark hair pulled back from her face stood beaming next to a very handsome, blue-eyed, bearded guy with a pompadour. Both wore greaser jackets and jeans._ _

__MacCready peered at the photo, making out two happy smiling faces. Ricky was just about recognisable, the handsome young man in the photo bearing scant resemblance to the ghoul opposite him, but there was something in the expression and the eyes that remained the same._ _

__"Yeah…that was us," Ricky said wistfully._ _

__Vincent craned forward to look. "I can see the resemblance Mac, can't you? Good looks must run in the family," he smiled at his husband._ _

__Valentine piped up, "I bet little Mayor MacCready was the spit o' you at ten. Weird how I can even remember little Ricky Gee…"_ _

__MacCready had been lost in a reverie, thinking back to the days when he’d sat around in the Third Rail and the discussion had often turned to whether being preserved as a ghoul was preferable to dying. Discussion had become heated, with ghouls and non-ghousl taking their stance on both sides of the argument. He had always been a waverer, he wondered what Ricky’s take on the matter would have been. Anyway, it didn’t matter, his thoughts had gone off at a tangent. “Valentine? You knew Ricky before? How come?”_ _

__Nick was succinct. "Child of mobsters. Witness protection. Seventy-six was the only place far enough away and safe enough from Giancola's mob. 'The Cigar' and Eddie Winter weren't strangers." Valentine drew a long, smoky breath. "Ask me later about how I was human then and remember it now even though I downloaded before I even met the kid. I shouldn't even know the guy. I'll need more whiskey."_ _

__"Hey, barkeep, got any hoagies?" Ricky asked, knowing that Nick wasn't quite ready to deal with this revelation just yet. He reached around behind him and fumbled around in his old backpack. He withdrew a large, sturdy manilla envelope of the waxed kind and handed it to Mac._ _

__"This is yours now, son. Sofia gave it ta me, one of her most prized possessions an' now it's yours."_ _

__Mac carefully drew out a signed copy of the Unstoppables, Issue 1, 'Blood on the Harp'. Of the ten issues ever produced, this was the only one that neither Mac nor Vin had found a complete copy of. His collection was finally complete._ _

__Mac was rendered speechless for the second time that night, a new record. “Really, for me? Thank you that’s amazing” he cradled the comic book tenderly and gently. “Can’t wait to get back and add it the collection.” Mac desperately wanted to read the comic book then and there but knew he would have to be patient. He already had a mental image of ‘the perfect set-up’ – a chair on the veranda, a cigarette and perhaps even some cotton gloves to handle the comic? Umm maybe that was going a little to far. He would definitely make sure that it was after Duncan was sound asleep. He became aware of a hush around the table, and three sets of eyes on him. “Oh, sorry guys, I was umm, just appreciating my gift. Thanks again, Ricky” He gently slid it back into the envelope, and placed it on one of the vacant tables, well away from spillage hazards._ _

__The barman brought over a plateful of assorted sandwiches made with razorgrain bread and filled with roasted tatoes, grilled meats and dandyboy applesauce, the house speciality. Ricky went to pay but Valentine pushed his hand down and dug deep in his own pocket for caps._ _

__Ricky grinned the grin only true comic nerds achieve when sharing their favourite passion. He nudged Mac with an elbow._ _

__"You know what I'd love to do…oh, how old are Duncan an' Roberta?"_ _

__Vin jumped in, as pleased with Ricky's gift as Mac was as he knew he'd get to share it later. "MacDunc's eleven, goin' on twelve. Bobbie's seven."_ _

__Ricky hmm'd thoughtfully. "Seven's a little young but…how 'bout you," he gestured toward Mac, "me, Duncan and Vincent here read parts together tomorrow like a play? We used ta do that together, my little Bobbie pin, Jo, Sof an' I. I…I'd really love that, son."_ _

__Mac stopped his sandwich chomping midway. He was torn between wanting to devour the comic alone and wanting to share as Ricky had suggested. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share, he was just scared that the comic might be damaged. He remonstrated with himself, this wasn’t a time to be selfish. “Yeah, okay Gramps, that’s a great idea.”_ _

__Vincent bumped shoulders with Mac. "I'd better go rescue Marcy and Jun, put MacDunc to bed. You can stay up with Gramps an' Valentine long as you want, love."_ _

__Vincent shook Ricky Gee's hand, gave Valentine a clap on the shoulder and said his good nights._ _

__Ricky turned to MacCready. "So, cat, what can I fill ya in on?"_ _

__MacCready had many questions, they threatened to overwhelm his fatigued brain. What a day it had been. What was really bugging him was how they had made the connection between him and Ricky. “How the heck did you realise that I’m your relation? I mean, what were the chances?”_ _

__"Well, they don't call me "Lucky Ricky" for nuthin'. I was in the Commonwealth long enough before I got ta Diamond City. You know I remember seein' an actual baseball game at that place? I digress. So I found Valentine's Detective Agency. Couldn't believe it was you, Nick," Ricky said, turning to where the old synth was nursing his upteenth whisky. "I was just fillin' him in on the family names I knew an' where they were at, then your Big Bear knocks on the door an' it turns out he's a gumshoe too. I had a letter…the last letter I ever got from my grandkids…" Ricky falls silent for a while._ _

__Yeah, my Great Grandaughter Shannon - y'know, after Shannon Rivers? Mistress o' Mystery actress? I've been to her mansion, you know. Well that's another story. Anyhow, the two V's followed the address an' found a neighbour who knew the family. Told 'em about Bonita MacCready an' , well, here I am._ _

__Mac reached over and placed his hand over Ricky’s gnarly hand. Somehow the whys and wherefores weren’t as urgent anymore. After the shock of the initial revelation Mac had started to accept his newfound and rather cool ancestor. In his mind’s eye he perceived generation after generation of MacCready’s stretching back hundreds of years. And to think he’d spent the majority of his life thinking himself a rootless orphan!_ _

__Ricky Gee looked over at the whiskey-slinging detective."Valentine, can that chassis o' yours even get drunk?"_ _

__"No…but it cleans the ol' hydraulics out like nothin' else, kid. I should retire. See you boys in the morning." He tipped his hat and left the Two Flags, trailing cigarette smoke._ _

__Ricky Gee put his other hand over MacCready's. "I was hopin' my family'd be good uns. Seen too many folks, includin' my Vault fam, go Raider. Paladin-General, huh? Well that's quite a legacy." You want one more drink, Robert Joseph Gee MacCready?"_ _

__“No thanks, Gramps. I probably had enough, no doubt Dunc will be up early tomorrow too. Do you need directions, or shall I accompany you to the barracks?”_ _

__"Let's mosey together. Thanks Barkeep!"_ _

__The man behind the counter raised a hand and the two newfound relatives left the bar, walked in quiet companionship to the barracks near the main workshop and said goodnight._ _


	7. Lucked Out 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ricky starts to get to know his newfound family and begins to share one of his favourite things.

ISSUE 1 - "Blood on the Harp"

The next morning dawned early and fair. Mac and Vin found Ricky still at the barracks, chatting to Paladin-Colonel Preston Garvey and his expectant fianceé Lu Abernathy. Ricky was holding a white cat who was purring ecstatically under the ghoul's gentle fuss.

“Morning Gramps, did you sleep ok?” Mac was feeling good. He had his husband back and Duncan was looking forward to meeting Ricky. Vin and Mac had briefly told Duncan at breakfast about a ‘special guest’ that was longing to be introduced to him. The lad had been burning with curiosity, but Mac wanted to keep the meeting as a surprise.

" 'Bout as well as I ever do, these days…So, I met Pebbles here," he said, putting down the now wriggling cat. "Think she likes me. You got animals, 'sides your big 'ol mutt friend?"

Ricky looked around behind Mac. "Kids around?" He was eager to meet them both.

“Come up to the house, Gramps, Dunc’s waiting there, then we can head to the Longs to see Roberta,” Mac thought it was probably best to do the meet and greet in stages rather than having Ricky met with an ambush.

The ghoul nodded, turned to picked up his guitar and rucksack and once again MacCready noticed the Atom Cats patch on the back. 

“Say, Gramps, what’s with the Atom Cats patch? Do you know those guys?” Mac had meant to ask last night, but more important questions had taken priority.

"Yeah, so your hubby's a Cat, isn't he? Are you, too?" Ricky gave MacCready a calculating look, wondering how much he should share.

“Umm, yeah, kind of, it’s complicated.” Mac mumbled. “Anyway, shall we proceed to _mia casa_ Dunc’s waiting.”

Ricky's expression changed, having decided something. "Put the brakes on, kid. I may as well spill the beans…just don't go jawin' to Zeke or none o' the Atom Cats. Vin already knows it but…" he draws a breath in through his teeth. "I was 'Aimin' Andy'. I started the Cats."

“Wow, that’s just confirmed it – I have a cool ancestor. Don’t worry Gramps, your secret is safe with me.” the inner-gossip in Mac thought it was a shame he wouldn’t be able to tell Shaun, but no doubt when Ricky got to meet Shaun he’d decide if he wanted to mention it himself.

"They think I'm dead. I very nearly was but they buried me near some lovely yella barrels an' I did a Zombie movie number. Y'know, rose from my grave? That was fun…I was coughin' up gravel for a week... anyhow, nothin' against my Cats but it's better that I'm gone to them. Personal reasons."

The ghouls face suddenly looked very old and very sad but that passed like a cloud and his chirpy smirk returned. I'm jazzed to meet the young'uns."

“Not long now, we’re nearly there.” It was a very short walk to Mac and Vin’s house and Mac knew Duncan would be eagerly watching for their arrival.

Ricky surveyed the patched suburban bungalow. You could still see places where the bombs had ripped off panels and roof tiles but they had been fixed with a mix of corrugated metal, new brick, concrete and wooden panels. The overall effect was a cosy patchwork.

"Looks homely," Ricky commented. 

Vincent caught up, having been drawn into a Minutemen business conversation with Preston. "Hey, Mac, why don't you go and make sure Duncan is ready? I'd like to show Ricky here what we have stashed in the garage." Vincent's grin was huge every time he got to show off his pride and joy.

The matter was decided by Duncan, who had been peering out of a window. On seeing his two dads and a stranger approaching he ran out of the house towards them. There was a slight moment of hesitancy as he realised the stranger was a ghoul, but Duncan was used to ghouls, and this one must be one of the friendly type like Daisy and Wiseman as as he was laughing and chatting to his dads.

Duncan stood expectantly in front of the trio. “Dunc, this is Ricky, otherwise known as Gramps… he’s your great, great, great.. well you get the picture, grandpa! Isn’t that amazing. He really wants to meet you!”   
Duncan gave the Ricky an appraising look. “Didn’t know I had a grandpa, it’s nice to meet you”, he held out his hand politely.

"So _you're_ the famous MacDunc! Good ta meet ya, kiddo!" Ricky grasped Duncan's forearm in both hands for a more informal greeting. You get to call me Great Gramps, if you like? So tell me about yerself!"

“Well Great Gramps, I’m 11 years old, which is almost grown-up” (Mac raised his eyebrows at this) “And I have a big brother called Shaun, and an aunty, but she’s kinda my sister, called Roberta. I have a bedroom all to myself and I’ve got lots of comics and I don’t like school much and…” Duncan paused for breath. Mac cut in, once Duncan was in full flight, they would be here all day.  
“Why don’t you show Great Gramps your room?”   
“Great idea, Dad!” Duncan grabbed Ricky by the hand and started pulling him towards the house. Mac chuckled to himself. Vin would have to get in line to show Ricky his bike.

Ricky dutifully followed and was genuinely impressed with Duncan, his manners, his character and his enthusiasm. He'd occassionally comment on things he was shown such as: "I had a shiny red Nuka truck too!" and "Love the Silver Shroud picture, kiddo. Almost a cool as uncle Nick, huh?"

When the tour was over, he turned to MacCready.  
"Hey, mind if we sit down for a while? Gramps knees don't work so good any more. Oh, Mac, Vin, how's about we read Grognak, then y'all can ask me whatever you like. I got two hundred an' thirty years worth of stories an' then I'm itchin' to see what your Pop tinkers with in the garage."

Mac raised an eyebrow, he was dying to make an innuendo about Vin’s ‘tinkering’ but he resisted the urge, instead he gave Vin a salacious wink. “You won’t believe what Gramps gave me last night, Dunc, let me go and fetch it… “ Mac disappeared into the bedroom where he had stashed the precious manila envelope last night.   
He came into the room making a big show of slowly easing it out of the envelope so that a little bit was revealed at a time. Dunc watched with rapt attention suddenly shouting out in excitement as he recognised the rare edition ‘Dad! It’s the _missing comic_!!!”

Ricky eased himself onto the plush sofa, trying very hard not to show how much his joints were paining him.

"Here's how the Gee family did Comic Book time, cats: we each take parts but the oldest person does the casting (that was Sofia, she was born way before me but was asleep a long time so…Okay, back on track. I got a good voice to do the monsters, Duncan here _has_ to be Grognak, narrators always have good, deep voices so that has ta be Vin which leaves the Princess an' her handmaids. Who we got left for the girly voices eh, Dunc?" Ricky winked conspiratorially at the boy knowing that MacCready had drawn the short straw.

Ricky takes a deep breath, which rattles in his chest. "Tell you what, squirt, I'll read you one issue of Grognak every day with your cool Dads, then…well….then I ought ta be gettin' home. Can I stay that long, Mac?

“Of course, Gramps, you can stay as long as you like. Where are you going to go when you leave here? Will we still be able to see you sometimes?”

"Oh, its a long, long way away. Besides, I wouldn't want you ta get scorched by the giant bats that live there. They don't bother with old ghouls like me but you'd be like a piece o' perfectly preserved pie to them. Best to stay in the Commonwealth, kiddo."

They managed to get through the comic, Vin putting on his best Silver Shroud impersonation for the narrator, Mac squeaking his way through the Princesses death scene, Duncan trying to make his voice break already when he wasn't giggling and Ricky growling the monsters' lines.

“Wowzers!” said Mac leaning back in his chair once the raucous reading of the comic had completed. “That was worth waiting for! That was brilliant...thanks so much Gramps!”  
Having his family around him made it more fun than he could have imagined. He was glad he hadn’t read it alone as he’d originally planned.


	8. Lucked Out 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaun - now almost 17 and in an adult synth body (see Through a Man's Eyes) - returns home for a break from his Proctor studies.
> 
> Ricky settles in at Sanctuary and gets to know his great (x5) grandson better.

ISSUE 2 - "Cometh the Trickster"

On the second morning, a vertibird touched down nearby. A tall, well-built young man in Brotherhood fatigues strode down the street, the sun catching his auburn hair. There was no doubt whose son he was; the hair might be longer and tied into a ronin knot, the light facial hair styled into a neat moustacheless beard rather than a horseshoe 'tache and his frame less solid but he was all too often recognised.

Shaun Hudson-MacCready jogged down the street to his home. He saw the open garage door and his Dad showing off his midnight blue Lone Wanderer motorcycle to a strange ghoul. MacCready emerged from the front door and saw him approach first.

"Hey, Pa," Shaun said. MacCready had quickly got fed up of being referred to by his partner's son as Mac. He had quickly become the fun dad, the one who was closer to being a big brother. At only thirteen years older, he sometimes had a hard time disciplining the boy but since the Synth had successfully transferred from an unchanging child-sized body to that of a young adult, he had become more respectful of MacCready's authority. Not to mention that shouting Dad in their house got confusing at times. 

MacCready waved him closer so that he could fill Shaun in.

“It’s great to see you Shaun! You’re looking well. I’ve got a lot to tell you, the gentleman in there with your dad is Ricky, Ricky Gee. He just so happens to be a relative of mine, it’s a long story but he’s my great.. great.., yeah multiply that a few times, Grandpa. He came into Sanctuary Hills yesterday with Nick and your dad.”  
Shaun peered into the garage, “He’s related to us? That’s cool. Is that an Atom Cat jacket he’s wearing?”  
“Yeah, it is…” Mac nodded in confirmation, “I’m sure he’s dying to meet you. Would you like to come and be introduced?”

"Absolutely! Hey, Dad fixed your squeak, huh? Man is it good to get my feet on the ground again."

Vincent and Ricky emerged from the garage, Vin wearing a proud and satisfied smile on his face after having been indulged by the ghoul in telling the origin story of the 'Blue Wanderer'. Vin strode up to his son, clasped arms and embraced. 

“Good to see you dad,” Shaun said. As the father and son embrace came to an end Shaun turned to Ricky. “Hi, I’m Shaun, nice to meet you”  
Shaun shook Ricky’s hand and asked what he should call him.

"Good ta meet ya, Jack. Gramps is just fine, or Lucky Ricky. Hey, 'scuse me but I ain't never actually met a…um..what, artificial person before? You look….spit o' your Dad. Quite a flutterbum. Bet the dolls all swoon over ya, hey?"

Shaun was flustered, he hated being pigeonholed as a synth. Mac stepped in, “Nothing artificial about our Shaun!” he glared at Ricky, hoping the ghoul would get the message and change the subject.  
Duncan had been eagerly waiting Shaun’s return, and the ice was broken as he came barrelling out of the house to greet his brother.

Ricky just had time to put a hand on Shaun's shoulder and say, "No offence, man," before Duncan tackled his big brother and then "Isn't Gramps cool? Can we read "Cometh the Trickster now, please? Shaun can be the King!"

“Uh?” Shaun felt ambushed and looked to Mac for some assistance.  
“He’s talking about the Grognak comics. Gramps gave me a copy of my missing Unstoppables issue and we all read it yesterday. I had to be the Princess” Mac rolled his eyes at Shaun, before turning to Duncan. “You’d better check with Shaun first, Dunc, he might need a little rest after his long journey.”  
Duncan huffed. Grown-ups could be so _boring_.

"Um..yeah, Dunc, later. I need to have a grown-up soda. Why don't you go play with Bobbie an' we'll stop by after? Has…er…Gramps met Bobbie yet?"

Vin shook his head. "Mac, go check if that's alright with Marcy and take MacDunc with you. We'll be in the 'Flags."

“Okey Dokey, c’mon then Dunc, lets go see Bobbie,” Mac turned to Duncan, who had almost instantly forgotten his pique.   
“Ok, but I bet Mrs Long says no!” Duncan knew how protective Marcy was of Roberta.  
“Ha, she can’t resist my charm, just you see!” Mac winked at Duncan, and hoped that Marcy would be in a good mood.

MacCready could hear Marcy Long shouting before they reached the white picket fence.

"You do _not_ cover the entire living room wall in chalk, young lady!" followed by Jun's calming, "It'll wash off, hon. Help me fill a bucket, young lady. Mommy can sit and have a rest, okay?"

Mac knocked on the door. A flustered-looking Marcy answered.

“What are you smirking at!” Marcy snapped at Mac.  
“Behold! The answer to your problem.” Mac grinned as Roberta ran over to him. “How’s about we take Bobbie off your hands while you clean up? Got some one that I want her to meet – a relative of mine has turned up - I’ll tell you more later.”  
Marcy managed a shadow of a smile. “Well, perhaps you could take her for a couple of hours…. I know she’ll be safe with you. Especially if Vin’s there too. He will be there won’t he?”

“Oh yes, she’ll be safe as houses, don’t you worry Marcy. Get Jun to clear this place up and have a nice rest”  
Jun had already started the clean up operation, and he looked up from his mopping, “Sounds like a great idea, doesn’t it hun?”

“Well, OK then,” Marcy turned to kiss Bobbie goodbye, “but don’t let her leave Sanctuary Hills”  
“’Course not,” said Mac.  
Duncan took Bobbie’s hand. “Don’t worry Mrs Long, I’ll look after her.”   
As they left the Long house, Roberta asked Duncan where they were going. “It’s a su’prise.”  
Roberta started to remonstrate with Duncan demanding to know where they were going. She fell silent as they walked into the ‘Two Flags”.

As Mac walked in, or rather was dragged in by his little sister, he saw that Ricky was in conversation with Preston.

"We're always finding new places to start settlements, Mr. Gee. It sounds like Foundation is a real good start for your settlers, too. Since the Sentinel-General arrived on the scene, the neighbourhood has got a whole lot safer and as a result, people have started having babies left, right and centre, myself included!"

Valentine sat behind them. "Yeah, where is the lovely Lu, Garvey?"

"Oh, home in bed with morning sickness again. Her Ma is looking after her."

Vincent and Shaun noticed the three MacCreadys enter. Vin wore a broad smile whils Shaun's expression was that of a put-upon teen who was hoping to drink his one permitted beer in the company of adults, followed by a reluctant smile. "Hi auntie Bobbie," he managed.

Bobbie rushed forward to hug Shaun, she had missed him when he was away. Mac nodded his greeting to the group, before hot footing it to the bar for a drink for himself. He would have got Shaun another, if it had been down to him. As far as he was concerned, sixteen was a fully grown adult, he’d been married at that age with a kid on the way at eighteen! However, he respected Vin’s decision even though he secretly thought he was babying Shaun a tad. From Shaun’s dour expression as he stared into the half inch of beer left in the bottom of his glass he clearly felt the same.  
Mac brought his beer back to the table, as Bobbie was being introduced to Ricky by Duncan. Bobbie seemed a little shy of the ghoul, but Mac was sure that would pass soon enough.

The ghoul in the pompadour turned in his seat but didn't get up. "Is this the coolest kitten in the Commonwealth? Well hello, darlin', so pleased to meet ya."

Bobbie stood blinking, staring at Ricky. She had seen a few ghouls before, and most of them had been friendly, and this one seemed to be no exception. Duncan seemed to be comfortable around him, so Bobbie took her lead from him. “Hello,” she said shyly, “I’m Roberta.”

"Hey, you like Nuka Cola?" The six year old nodded like a bobblehead. "Bet ya never tried Cranberry, huh? I just so happen to have my very last bottle here. For you, Bobbie-pin." He hadn't meant to use his own daughter's nickname but the little girl, his distant relative, did look so very much like her.

The last vestiges of shyness fell from the little girl as she reached out for the rare Nuka Cola. “Thank you,” she said as she proffered the bottle towards Mac to open. Duncan looked at Mac with something akin to outrage. Mac guessed, correctly, that Duncan was annoyed that he hadn’t got any Nuka Cola. Mac glared back at Duncan, hoping that would be enough to ensure that Duncan remained gracious. Roberta offered the bottle to Duncan to try some, and Duncan broke into a toothy grin. Mac sighed with relief., the potential fit of pique averted.

“I’ve not seen that one before either, what’s it like, guys?” Mac expected it was probably a disappointment, seen one fancy Nuka, seen ‘em all. He felt slightly jaded with the endless varieties of Nuka Cola since maxing out on them when he’d been at Nuka World. Still, the kids were pretty excited and that was the object of the exercise.

Vin added that he hadn't seen any at Nuka World, either.

"Appalachian regional variety, I guess," said Ricky. "The Mire's full o' cranberries. Course, you gotta cook 'em well these days."

Roberta heard and whipped the bottle away from Duncan who looked as if was about to have a second sip. She held it out to Mac."Try some, big buv!" MacCready reverently took the bottle and had the tiniest sip…then screwed his face up to force a swallow, rather than showering his guest.

"It's official. I'm stickin' to Mutfruit," he said.

Shaun turned to his father. "Dad, Tess sends her regards and says that they're running out of coolant again." Vincent just laughed at what Shaun had thought a serious request from a high-ranking Proctor and family friend. Vin explained that it was an old joke; they had a factory producing the stuff now but years ago, he had to scavenge endless bottles of it from the wasteland. 

Ricky listened with interest. "I had a job like that once, always bein' sent out ta fetch somethin' the Raiders had lifted from the Settlers. Until we set decoys an' taught 'em a lesson." Gee shook his head sadly.

"Say, let me get the young man here another beer an' I'm sure Grognak drinks tato juice 'cause it gives him muscles." 

MacCready gave Vin a pleading look and tiny nod to let their young man have a second beer. Vin rolled his eyes but succumbed to peer pressure, which made Shaun beam with gratitude.

Everyone was now seated with their drinks in hand and the conversation flowed. Roberta was enjoying the rare treat of being allowed into the bar, as was Duncan. Shaun was feeling relaxed and in vacation mode. He was looking forward to spending time with his family, including Ricky.

Vin, Preston and Valentine were talking shop in the corner. In a moment of quiet, Vincent caught his husband's attention.

"Hey Mac, the Brigadier-General needs us urgently tomorrow. These two think it's a good idea if we bring Lucky Ricky along," he added, jabbing a thumb in Valentine and Garvey's direction. 

"Goodneighbour or Hancock's Alley?" Mac asked.

Preston piped up: "Goodneighbour, by sundown, latest. Pack light. The mission's time sensitive but low threat, Major." In dropping the Brotherhood appellation, Mac and Vin were informed that it was a Minuteman only concern. Ricky Gee was the only one who noticed the mischievous light dancing in Preston's eyes. He'd always been exceptionally perceptive.

“Tomorrow? What’s going on?” Mac had hoped to spend some time catching up with Shaun and Vin, it seemed like only five minutes since he had got back.   
Mac turned to Ricky, “Have you been to Goodneighbor before, Gramps?”

Preston just gave a quiet signal, letting Mac know that here, in front of the children, was not the place to go into details.

Vincent turned to his son. "I'll have a word with the Longs, Shaun. Wouldn't wanna split up Grognak and Atom Kitten here," he winked at Duncan and Bobbie. The little girl was far more thrilled with the nickname than Dunc had been when Zeke had applied it to him. Marcy and Jun were always happy to watch Duncan. Much as they loved MacCready's baby sister, their adopted daughter, they still missed having a boy around.

To Shaun, he said simply "Accompany us," in a tone that was part order, part father wheedling time with his son.

Ricky Gee finished swigging his beer and shook his head as he swallowed. "No, Mac, these earth pads never touched that place. Last I heard it was full o' triggermen an comin' from a mob background, I wasn't to keen on riskin' seein' old acquaintances. Not like the time I ran into my ghoulified Grandpappy…"

“Oh?” MacCready was intrigued, “Perhaps you can tell me about it on the way there?” Mac didn’t want to put Ricky on the hotspot in front of the kids. He became distracted as Jun arrived to collect Bobbie, who came forward to say goodbye to him, so he hugged and kissed them both, promising not to be away for long.

"Yeah, not here, not in front of the yoot, huh," Ricky said glancing at Bobbie, his fog-pale blue eyes just visible within the blackened sclera. From a distance, ghouls' eyes usually just looked black but if you were close enough, you could sometimes make out what colour their irises used to be.

Mac heard Jun outside. "Hello young lady, had a nice time?"

"I'm Atom Kitten, Dada! An' I had Cram berry Nuka and Gramps is nice even though he lost his nose an' he can play a gee-tar so pretty!" blurted Bobby.

"Well, good! Now I saved you a patch of your wall art to scrub off."

After everyone had drunk and eaten their fill, the family left the Two Flags. Preston and Valentine went about their business.

Dogmeat came rushing up, old back legs a bit wobbly but willing. He sat up, showing off his tricks, tail wagging, tongue lolling. Vin ruffled his ears.

"Dad, Pop, Gramps, can we read Grognak now, please?" The three men nodded in unison. "Shaun, you're gonna love this!"

* * *

That night, in bed, Vin rolled over to face his beloved conpanion. "So, Mac, what d'you make of 'Lucky' Ricky Gee?"

Mac took a few moments to consider the question. “Well, it was quite a shock, meeting someone that was related to me. I’ve always assumed I came from a long line of losers, that’s if I’ve even taken the time to think about it at all. It was nice to find out that wasn’t the case. I suppose I’m a bit worried the impact it will have on the kids – ya know, one day here’s your grandpa, the next day he’s gone. But I suppose it’s better that they met him than not at all.” Mac nestled back into the pillow, his expression pensive.

"Aside from that, though. Do you think he's..well, he's most certainly your living ancestor but why did he come find you now? I don't mean to worry you, I'm just tryin' to figure the guy out." Vincent laced his fingers into Mac's, the way he always did when he was worried about his best friend.

“I thought you knew that? I mean we haven’t had much chance to talk about it, but I assumed when you rocked up with him that you knew all the gory details and were going to tell me later.” Mac grinned, “You know, the old ‘need to know’ basis. Thought if I started scatter gunning you with questions you’d get mad at me.”

"Only that Valentine an' I were hired to find his remaining family. It never really came up why, just seemed like a lonely old man. Guess we both figured it was none of our business. Believe me, when the trail led to Bonnie, I was blown away."

Vincent rubbed a gentle hand over Mac's leg, massaging the stump he knew would be a little sore.

"Look, I ain't that freaked, it isn't like he's lightin' up the tilt sign or anyrhing, there's just somethin' he's not saying. Think you can find out what?"

The big ginger bear of a man kissed Mac on the forehead. "I don't like to think that you're scared of me getting mad at you, Mac. C'mon, you know me better'n that. What's made you come over all…jittery?"

“Oh, I dunno, it feels like you got back and I hardly had the chance to talk to you, before all this Ricky business kicked off. I think when you blanked me at the Vertibird landing, well I’m not gonna lie it really hurt, but I’m not going to carp on about it, but it was a horrible feeling.” Mac was grinning again, “Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on it, we’re cool now, just trying to explain. As for finding out more about Ricky Gee, thought you were the detective?” Mac snuggled into Vin, worried he may have come across as snarky “Ok, ok, if you concede defeat then I s’pose I can try.”

"Damn, sorry Mac. I was in 'man-on-a-mission' mode again. Didn't think." He apologetically kissed MacCready on his stubbled cheek. "As for bein' the detective, well yeah, that's exactly why I can't pursue it further. Professional boundaries an' all that."

“I’ll try and find out what he’s up to on the way to Goodneighbor. If he’s up to anything at all that is… “ Mac returned Vin’s kiss and settled down to sleep, feeling more relaxed now that he and Vin were in accord again.


	9. Lucked Out 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something's going down in Goodneighbor and Ricky is invited along.

ISSUE 3 - "Jungle of the Bat Babies"

The third morning dawned. The extended family spent a few sedately suburban hours over breakfast and mid-morning tea; Codsworth insisted on serving the best Assam and Funnel Cake. They read the Grognak issue that Vincent had retrieved from his and Nora's former home and given to MacCready. Vincent's voice cracked part way through; it reminded him of his last morning with Nora too much, so Shaun took over his part.

Sturges emerged from the workshop down the road carrying one of the emergency sniper rifles, freshly cleaned, oiled and bearing a new sight. He came up and handed it to Ricky Gee who gave him a generous portion of caps for it. Mac just heard Gee's comment to Sturges ("Hep D.A., cat.") and the reply ("Right back atcha, Jack"). The thought crossed his mind that they were speaking in code.

With Duncan now at the Longs and Preston returned to his fianceé Lu Abernathy, Shaun, Vincent, MacCready and Valentine readied themselves for the trip to Goodneighbor. These days, the main routes were much safer but nobody took that for granted. Ricky flung a threadbare brown duster over his leather Atom Cats jacket. If he wore armour at all it was well hidden beneath his layers.

Shaun deliberately wore civilian armour over a Hubris Comics t-shirt rather than broadcast his Brotherhood affiliation. Besides, he was on leave. MacCready dressed in his comfy old one-armed coat whilst Vincent chose a simple white t-shirt and jeans, plus his white combat armour. They gathered arms and crossed the bridge.

MacCready fell into pace beside Ricky. “So, do you know what all this is in aid of Gramps, because I still haven’t got a clue? As I used to say back in the mercenary days to my clients,~ _You point, I shoot_. Gotta be honest, feels a bit like that now.”

"Mercenary, eh? Me too, son. I'd take on jobs for the settlers down at Foundation, to help 'em out an' the Raiders up at Crater, mainly to keep an eye on 'em, ya dig? Well, that an' the Big O sendin' me off places. Me an' my trusty point five oh sniper."

“Big O?” Mac sometimes felt he needed an interpreter for talking with Ricky.

"Heh, sorry, the Overseer...she was like a mee-maw to me. She didn't tell any of us her name, not for years, certainly not whilst the vault was sealed, so I called her Big O, Bosslady or Ma'am.

“Ok, gotcha. So are we both in the dark here then?" He looked over to where Valentine was walking along besides Vin, both of them alert for threats.

"Heh, I never said I hadn't happened to overhear Garvey talking to Nick…" the old ghoul winked at Mac.

“So spill the beans then, Gramps. What the heck is going on?” Mac hadn’t been to Goodneighbor in a while, and though he was quite excited at the prospect of showing Ricky his old stomping ground, he didn’t like being kept in the dark.

"Hey bean! Now I respect Nick Valentine more than its worth ta go blabbin' what I shouldn't a heard in the first place."

MacCready was starting to feel a little aggrieved. Why did Ricky even mention he’d overheard if he was going to snub him like that? He swallowed his irritation and arranged his mouth into what he hoped was a carefree smile, but in truth looked more like a rictus grin. “No worries Gramps, I’ll just continue making like a mercenary until someone bothers to fill me in.”

Ricky gave MacCready a lopsided grin. "Don't have a brahmin, kiddo! I can tell you it ain't nothin' to get the gringles about, though Vin doesn't know about it either, for good reason." At Mac's confused expression, he adds, "Y'know, nothin' ta worry about, son. Don'tcha get frosted, now." Again, the quizzical eyebrow from MacCready. "Don't get angry." Then, to himself, "Man, folks are forgettin' how ta talk cool…"

A half hour away from Goodneighbor, the horn-like call of a mutant hound sounded out. Ricky had already taken out a supermutant before the bellowing howl ended, Vincent caught the three emerging from the building but a suicider was heading straight for Valentine, Mac noticed.

He trained the sights of his sniper rifle on the suicide, deciding that a head shot was his best bet. He aimed, and fired, scoring a direct hit on the suicider’s big green head.

"Nice shot, son!" Ricky said, patting Mac on the back.

* * *  
Hancock stood waiting the other side of the rusty blue door, Ham and several other members of the Neighborhood Watch stood at his sides. He saluted his Sentinel-General in a rather loose manner, then stepped forward.

"Evening, fellas. Change to the usual Goodneighbor welcome, due to….erm…special circumstances. D.I.Y. protection is no longer necessary where the Watch are walkin' so if ya would be so kind as ta hand your weapons to KL.E.O. here? Don't worry, she ain't gonna sell 'em, shop's shut."

Vincent started to complain but Valentine put a hand on his shoulder and he quietly complied.

The red frock-coated, tricorn wearing ghoul moseyed up to where Ricky stood next to Mac. "Hey, Longshot, who's your dreamy friend, here?"

“This is Ricky Gee,” Mac replied to Hancock, then he turned to Ricky, “And this is Mayor Hancock.” Turning back to Hancock again, he said “And by the way, Ricky is a relative of mine, it’s a long story but I’m sure if you look close enough you’ll see the resemblance. It’s not just skin deep either, “ Hancock snorted, he would never have placed these two as related, “Ricky knows his way around a rifle, amongst other things so just be careful.”

"Pleasure ta meet ya, fancycoat," Ricky replied.

"Well, I for one have time for long stories," Hancock replied and winked at Gee. 

When all the weapons had been collected, Hancock spun round theatrically, spiralled his finger into the air and yelled "Up!"

The ghoul members of the Neighborhood watch, with lightning speed, picked up Mac and Vin before they could react whilst Valentine and Shaun (who had been let in on the surprise by Nick), laughed. Ricky, having overheard, just gave his old signature smirk.

Vin yelled "What the hell, Hancock?", deliberately informal and not pulling rank even though he was rankled.

Someone gave Hancock a hand-bell which he duly rang, shouting "Hear ye, hear ye, It's Hudson and MacCready's Gettin' Together Anniversary! The Third Rail is now open to V.I.P. party members only! Let's get these lovebirds into their drinkin' nest, fellas!"

Mac and Vin were set down at the door of the famous Goodneighbor bar, Vincent blushing furiously at such a public display. He turned to check how red Mac had gone.

MacCready felt his stomach plummet to the tips of his boots. He hated being the centre of attention like this, and the urge to run from the scene was strong. But there was no point trying to run, he was surrounded. For the second time that day, the rictus grin returned. He knew that once the initial discombobulation had passed, he would be able to relax and enjoy himself, but right now he had to fake it to make it. He suspected that Vin wasn’t in on the surprise either. He looked across at his husband, and the glance confirmed it. Vin’s face was a virulent shade of puce.

Ricky Gee loped down the stairs, just behind MacCready. The Third Rail was lit softly and people rose from their seats to applaud the two Commonwealth celebrities.

 _Applause? Really?_ MacCready was having trouble navigating the stairs, and thought that even if he did take a tumble and fall down the remaining steps arse first he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he was at that moment.

"Sorry 'bout the surprise _I ain't_ , fellas," Hancock crowed smugly. "Hey, Hopalong, quit grinnin' like that. The wind'll change," teased the Brigadier-Mayor.

MacCready turned baleful eyes on Hancock. “It’s fine, I’m sure I’ll find a way to get you back, sorry, I mean return the favour sometime.” He took a seat near the bar. “So, I guess the drinks are on you then, Mayor?”

"Fuckin' right they are, Mac. Hey, Charlie! Get over here ya floatin' cocktail shaker!" said Hancock, chuckling and grabbing MacCready by the shoulders for a rough hug.

The Mr. Handy wearing a bowler hat jetted around the bar bearing a tray of whiskey shots.

"Awright you buggers, get your bums on those plush seats and let our good Mayor here get you right off yer tits."

"Whitechapel Charlie's getting worse," Vin murmured to Mac.

MacCready had started to loosen up a bit, he had become reconciled to the idea of an afternoon of drunk debauchery in his old stomping ground. Mac grinned across at Vin, noticing Vin’s complexion had almost returned to its normal hue. “He decidedly is getting worse, must be the fetid air in this place.” He moved slightly closer to his husband, and added sotto voce “Are you OK, Vin?”

"I hate surprise parties," Vin said, cupping his hand to Mac's cheek, "but I'm glad they hit us together." He brought his left arm up to check his PIP-boy. "Well, wouldya lookit that. Seven years ago I walked into a bar and met the person who would change my life forever."

Vin smiled and kissed his husband full on the lips, to the rowdy delight of the patrons.

“Seems like more than seven years,” MacCready reflected dreamily on the events of the past few years and he raised his glass in a toast, “Here’s to the next seven!”

Vin and Mac were ushered directly into the V.I.P room, where most of their closest friends gathered. Vin was surprised to see Diesel Dan (formerly Danse) and his husband Rhys there, both wearing uncomfortable expressions. Cait had already made herself quite at home and a white-haired old man sat drinking in the corner. Notably missing were Preston, who was tending to Lu at Abernathy Farm and the leading, no longer only, Diamond City journalist. 

"Piper not here?" Vin asked Nick. 

"You didn't see the doll when we were there last? No? Well, we'll stop by tomorrow. I'm sure she'll want to see you."

Ricky tapped Mac on the shoulder. "So, ya gonna introduce me to your crew?"

MacCready sighed ungraciously, he felt like he’d spent half his life recently making introductions. He tinkled a spoon against his glass to get everybody’s attention and cleared his throat noisily. The room hushed, and MacCready took the opportunity to announce to the entire company that Ricky Gee was his newfound relative. He gave a few moments for the information to sink in, and for the assembled company to nod or tilt their hats towards Ricky, then he went round the room allowing those present to introduce themselves.

In the main room, Magnolia started her set. Ricky smiled at the music, made the rounds and then drew MacCready aside. "So I'm guessin' you don't like bein' centre stage, huh cookie?" 

Vincent was chatting to Old Longfellow, whom Dan had ferried over from Far Harbor. Cait was trying to get both Dan and Rhys to loosen up by playing a drinking game and Hancock was catching up with Valentine.

Ricky Gee leaned in. "Say, I seen your limp an' noticed you takin' the stairs careful-like. What's your tale, night'ngale?" He swiped two bright blue cocktails from Whitechapel Charlie as he went by and handed one to his distant grandson.

Mac gingerly sipped the lurid cocktail, it was probably unwise to dabble in Charlie’s cocktails, he’d been burned before. Still, as long as he didn’t overindulge it would probably be fine. “Oh, I lost some of my leg to a pissed off mama deathclaw. Not much to tell, I’m used to it now and Vin did a great job with the prosthetic one.” Mac rolled his trouser leg up slightly so Ricky could see the leg. “As for the stairs. I was nervous as fu… heck what with this surprise party and all, and that made me a bit more apt to take a tumble. Still, far worse things happen at sea and all that.” Mac was at pains to appear stoic to Ricky.  
“The truth is I’m lucky to be alive, some of the scrapes Vin and I have been in, it coulda been far worse.”

"Is that…Unstoppables Comic scraps pasted all over?" Mac nodded smugly. "Supermurgitroid man, like, I dig!" Ricky sighed. "Yeah, life is cruel. Sucked eggs losin' my nose an' my sense o' smell along with. Hated losin' my looks but Sofia saw me through. Worse thing though, losin' my hair…oh hey man, there ain't no curtain climbers around so you go ahead, son an' cuss all you like."

“Probably best not to have a sense of smell in Goodneighbor.” Mac hoped that his joke wasn’t taken the wrong way, it was a gut reaction, based upon many years’ experience of the unmistakeable stench of Goodneighbor. “You get used to it when you’re living here, but takes a while to get accustomed to it when you come back.”  
Mac stared into the blue dregs of his cocktail and beckoning to Charlie, who was hoovering nearby, he asked if he could have another one. Charlie’s mixing skills had improved, either that or Mac was already drunk. Charlie disappeared to the bar and returned with more of the lethal blue beverage. “Cheers Charlie,” Mac thanked the robotic bar keep as he helped himself to not one but two of the drinks. “You having another, Gramps?”

"Heh heh, I like the way you think. Yeah, I will, thoygh glad that blue stuff didn't turn out ta be Nukashine. We'd be wakin' up somewhere else in the Commonwealth, tonorrow!" Ricky chuckled deeply, then a thought struck and his smile fell.

"Oh, an you do _not_ wanna meet a Scorched 'claw. Less of 'em around nowadays but if ya ever go ta Appalachia, just stay well away from the big, green glowin' cracks in the ground, ya dig?"

MacCready said “Oh yeah, anything green and glowing tends to be a no-no in the Commonwealth too.” MacCready, “Ever seen a ‘glowing one’?” MacCready shuddered at the recollection of various encounters with the grotesque creatures.

Ricky had a glint in his eye when he replied, "Now do ya mean Glowin' feral, glowin' radroach, glowin' mutant hound, glowin' behemoth, glowin' Mole Miner…?"

“Let’s just say if it glows, it’s a no-no!” Mac found his own witticism amusing and chuckled accordingly, even though he’d already said the same thing less than 5 minutes ago. The blue cocktails were starting to kick in.

"I just wanna say, Robert Joseph, you found yourself a keeper, there. Vincent is somethin' else an your boys do you proud. I'm real happy for ya, son."

“Thanks Gramps, I appreciate that. Sometimes I think I’ve woken up in someone else’s life, I got so lucky. Speaking of Vin, do you think he needs rescuing from Old Longfellow?” Mac peered across the murky smoke filled bar to where Vin was still jawing with the gnarly Far Harbor dweller.

"Heh, get him over here. Well, since we're tellin' stories… hey Fancycoat, got any Daytripper?

Hancock dug a hand inside his waiscoat. "On the house tonight, handsome."

MacCready excused himself, annoyed at Hancock dishing out drugs like they were Sugar Bombs and flirting with his Grandpa. Of course, Ricky could look after himself and seeing as he had already stated himself straight as yardstick, he was pretty sure that Hancock was heading for a knockback. Mac shambled towards the bathroom and relieved himself in the thankfully dimly lit facilities, cleanliness was not a feature of the Third Rail. Despite the dim light, MacCready observed his urine was a rather strange greeny-blue hue. Probably a cue to get back on the beers and away from Charlie’s concoctions.  
Mac re-entered the bar and insinuated himself clumsily into Vin and Longfellow’s conversation.

"…an' then I proposed! I never thought my ship'd come in but Cassie has made me a happy old man."

Vincent shook the old man's hand warmly. "Well, old-timer, enjoy the whiskey. Dan'll see you safely back tomorrow."

He looked around to see his husband approach, a silly grin on his face that told Vin the booze was starting to kick in. "Hey there, hero."

“Well, hello handsome!” MacCready slid into to a vacant chair next to Vin. “Say, are we staying at the Rexford tonight?” Mac felt there was always something deliciously illicit about the place. “Be nice to be out of earshot of the kids…”

"We sure are," Vin said with a mischievous quirk of the eyebrow. "And Daisy's putting Shaun up at her place," he added.

Gee knocked back the pill, visibly relaxed (though Mac hadn't thought it was possible for him to get any more laid back) and cleared his gravelly throat.

Vincent settled down next to MacCready, puffing on his cigar. Ricky didn't flinch.

"This ain't a cosy lovetale, fellas, not like the ones I been hearin' all night about you two crazy cats. No, this is about obsession. A'right, there's a bit o' love and somethin' like out of an Appalachian Astoundin' Tales magazine.

Back when I was a teen, growin' up underground like my boy Mac here, I learned how ta be cool from my foster pop Jonny. Well, this kid Travis, he starts followin' me around, growin' his wig to get it pomped, copyin' my phrases an' my poses. Bit of a pain in the butt. Seemed ta grow out of it by twen'y an' I didn't rarely see him nor think about him. 

Then, well, Reclamation Day came an' Enid broke up wi' me, at the party, can ya believe? Most everyone else hauled ass outta that blue an' yella cooler, includin' Travis Touchdown. Me, I was knocked out cold for two days with chems someone had slipped in my Nuka. I came to an' the Vault hadn't shut down like it was supposed ta, so I stayed an I wallowed…for months."

Ricky lit up a cigarette, the background chatter much reduced now that most of the patrons in the main room had left, passed out or were enchanted by Magnolia's silky voice, now singing "Ain't Misbehavin' ".

"So I get out an' one day, see this almost i-den-tical pompadour, just a shade brighter than my cherry red back then. Big black leather jacket with studs an' a red Bloodeagle symbol on the back - Raider Gang," he explained as an aside. "Turns out it was old copycat Travis, only now after bein' in the Wasteland for most of a year, he'd grown broad chested, twice as strong as me an I'm not kiddin' when I say he had actual claws an' scaly skin. There's mutations out there you can pick up like diseases an' he was collectin'.

He'd show up from time to time, help me out in a fight, long as I didn't get in the way. I was downright scared of him but he never did lay a finger on me. 

His punches were literally explosive, he'd arc electricity an' emit a poisonous fume in a fight. He'd started callin' himself Static 'cause o the mutations makin' static electricity arc offa his body in a fight.

He was pretty neutral in his relations with the Settler folk an' the Raiders. I think both were terrified of him. He was stable though, at least while Beckett, his boyfriend, was around. After Beckett passed though, he vanished. I didn't see anythin' of him for the best part o' two hundred years. The one time I briefly returned ta Appalachia, I heard tales o' this… legendary Wendigo. I used to clear 'em out often as I found them. Worse'n ferals, all long, crawlin' limbs, teeth an claws, sometimes bad as Deathclaws."

The old ghoul took a long, steadying drag on the nearly spent cigarette.

"I found the cave, not too far from Static's old shack. I snuck in, dispatched a couple ferals, went deeper in. That's when I saw it….

Glowin' green, fightin' an unwary mirelurk king that had strayed too far in, the wendigo was hissin' an' swipin' an suddenly I saw electricity spark; the next punch burst into flames. The king went down an' the wendigo, it stalked toward me, close enough to get under a patch o' daylight from the hole in the ceilin'. 

That's when I saw scars across the eyes I recognised, the tattered remains of a black an' red leather jacket, fused to its back; it looked at me an I knew…it was him, my shadow…but it wasn't Static no more. There was no humanity left in the mutant. I still couldn't bring myself to kill him. I don't rightly know if it recognised me at all but it gave me two seconds head start before it launched toward me. I tell ya, if I wasn't part mutie myself I would _not_ have outrun it that day." 

Hancock, who had been riveted, nevertheless piped up with, "Well I didn't know Daytripper was _that_ much of a downer. This is supposed to be a party, Gramps, not campfire tales time.

MacCready glared at Hancock, “Well, I don’t see you being particularly entertaining, and it’s my, I mean _our_ party anyway. So, if Gramps want to tell his stories, I for one say bring them on.”

Hancock stared at Mac for a moment, then laughed out loud, draping himself across both MacCready and Vincent. "Well alright, if that's what bakes your cake, you sexy pair o' guns!"

Ricky just huffed, stubbed out the butt of his cigarette and sat back in the chair. In doing so, he dislodged a brown moth that had been hiding in the plush old fabric and it fluttered into his face.

To everyone's surprise he leapt up and back, landing on the seat, yelling and frantically batting the little moth away from his face and knocking Dan's beer over.

Charlie shouted "Beer crime! Here, clean up yer own mess, geezer," and threw a clean cloth. Ricky caught it with lightning speed, checked that the moth had gone and wiped the spill. He turned to the staring faces, shrugged and said,

"Mottephobia. Means I _really_ don' like moths." He chucked the dirty cloth back at Charlie, then quietly so only Vin and Mac could hear, "…ever since I was a child. Hid in a closet with a stiff, the guy's suits were lousy with 'em." He shuddered. "So how d'ya think I reacted when I met the Mothman, huh?! Anyway, no more scary stories Mac, tell me one about you two flutterbums."

Mac racked his brains, those damn blue cocktails seemed to be playing havoc with his memory. The more he thought about his history with Vin, the more he remembered their extremely intimate moments. He was just about on the right side of insensibility to realise that Vin would _not_ appreciate him sharing, despite the memories being decidedly pleasant to recall. “Umm, what do you wanna know?” Perhaps if he stalled, either he’d have a brain wave or Vin would bail him out.

Vin shifted around to smirk at him directly. Mac could detect the whiskey-blush in his cheeks. He swallowed another mouthful, making the eagle tattoo look like the thing was nodding its head. "Yeah, Mac. Let's hear a story, ' Vin challenged him.

The old ghoul just smiled at his last adult relative, glancing between the two lovers.

MacCready sat back in his chair in contemplative manner. “Well, let me see,” he remembered the few days he whiled away being a caravan guard, watching a Brahmin arse for days on end in an attempt to stall his next meeting with Vin after their first intimate act. That wouldn’t really make a good anecdote, urgh he hated being put on the spot like this.

“Well, urgh, I could tell you about the time we got these..” he held out his arm, displaying a small but impressive tattoo on his inner arm. It was a pattern, with the letters V&M in the middle. If one looked closer, the pattern could be discerned to be comprised of various objects. Mac pointed out the silver shroud hat, the sniper rifle and a bottle of Nuka Cola. 

“Is that a mutfruit?” Hancock piped up.

Vin started to chuckle, “Sure is, isn’t that right Mac?”

Mac’s face had turned a similar shade to the interior of a mutfruit, he just mumbled incoherently, before clearing his throat. “Anyway, we both got one… Show ‘em yours Vin!” Vin rolled up his sleeve obligingly, revealing a similar tattoo.

“Ahw, matching tattoos, ain’t that just the cutest.” Hancock drawled.

Mac starred daggers at the ghoul. “Anyway, we got these to commemorate our marriage – look carefully” he pointed to a date under the initials, “That’s the date of the wedding. It was my idea, when I saw Daisy had started doing tats as a sideline, it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.” Mac stood and shouted at Daisy, who was drinking with Magnolia whilst she was on her break. “Hi Daisy, just telling everyone about the tattoos you did…”

Daisy nodded in acknowledgment and ambled over. “Yeah, and you wouldn’t believe what a wuss this one was… “she pointed at Mac. “Vin on the other hand, well, he’s obviously used to it, and he was the absolute perfect canvas.”

“Hey, Daisy, I was biggin’ you up here. I wasn’t that much of a wuss, not once I got accustomed to it.” Mac rushed to defend to his wounded pride.

“If you say so!” Daisy cackled, and Vin joined in, remembering Mac’s reactions.

Ricky Gee studied the tattoos on both men's arms and winked at Daisy. "Nice work there, ma'am. Ahhh…my own tats didn't fare so well after…well. Here, this is what's left o' my Lucky tat." He rolled his own sleeve to reveal what looked like the corners of dice, a playing card and the remaining letters ..UCK.. "

Hancock chuckled dirtily.

"Yeah yeah, Fancycoat. Laugh it up, that's an old joke now. Used to be a four, two an one makin' a seven, then the six side o' the dice - fer Vault Seventy-Six - and an ace." He rolled up his other sleeve. "That was a winged sparkplug. On my back was a massive, beautiful mountainscape. It took Jonny days to finish. Not ashamed to admit I downed three Med-X for that one. Now it just looks like the Ash Heap." He stubbed out another cigarette. "An' Sofia an' I got inked just after we got hitched too. Yeah…hey Mac, y'know I gave my Sofia the real Eye of Ra an' the Garb o' Mysteries? I'm…er..technically a Mister of Mysteries myself. Maybe a story for another night, though, fellas."

Magnolia got up from her break at the bar and wandered over. "MacCready, I _know_ you've got a smooth set of pipes, honey. Why don't you come up to the stage with me and sing for your big L'il Ginger Snuggles, hmmm?" 

Vin raised an eyebrow at being compared to a collectible teddy bear and Mac made a mental note to remember the nickname to use in private later.

"Well, Mac, can we get you and your sweet voice on the stage?"

Mac was at that stage of happy intoxication where he was emboldened, but not incapable. He took to the stage as if he had been accustomed to singing in front of an audience his whole life. He whispered with Magnolia, who then briefed the band. The band started up, playing an introduction. Mac launched into an expert rendition of ‘I don’t want to set the world on fire’ with Magnolia gamely providing backing vocals.

Vincent listened with a look of pure admiration on his face. When Mac wobbled a little at the end of the song, he got up to help his lover down. The audience were calling for more.

Ricky stepped up. "Hey, knockout. I still got a decent set, bit gravelly these days but it's where he gets his voice from. How's about we do a duet for this heroic duo, huh?"

"Well, I think I know a fellow performer when I see one but let's sample a bar or two first, sugarplum."

Ricky asked for a guitar (having left his safely back at Sanctuary) but there were none to be had, so he closed his eyes and sang,

"Love is a burning thing and it makes a fiery ring  
Bringing me the wild desire I fell into a ring of fire

I fell into the burning ring of fire  
I fell down down down into the deepest fire  
And it burns burns burns the ring of fire the ring of fire  
The ring of fire.."

"Well now honey, that was wonderful. We just need to find the right song…Goodneighbor inspires a certain kind of music."

"How about Mr. Sandman, if we slow him down an' jazz him up, some?"

"Now we're cooking, crooner," Magnolia smiled.

The two took to the stage as the pianist, in a dark corner, started to play. Ricky started low and slow with the backing, choosing a slightly jazzier beat: 'Bom-bom bom-booom ba ba-bom bom-bom, bom-bom ba-bommm'

Magnolia slid in, improvising a slower, more seductive version of the well-known tune,

"Mr. Saaandmaaaan,' (looking at Vin), 'he brought a dream,(he brought a dream)  
Made him the cutest that I'd ever seen,' she winked at MacCready,  
'Gave him two lips like roses and clover,  
And told him that his lonesome nights were over,

Sandman, both were alone, (bom-bom bom-bom)  
They had nobody to call their own, (no more, bom-bom)  
And then they met…in the Third Rail,  
Now all the Commonwealth will sing their tale

Mr. Sandman, dreams have come true, (true-ue-ue)  
For these two fellas, the green an' the blue, (green and the blue)  
That lo-vers' blossom bloomed agaaaaain  
Vin and Mac, you're our favorite meeeen!"

Magnolia giggled, bowed and said "Goodnight, fellas," kissing Ricky on the roughened cheek as she went.

By this point in the evening, Hancock was in a daze, Old Longfellow had passed out and was snoring, Dan and Rhys, who had hardly said two words to anyone the whole night, were attached to each others' faces and Nick Valentine looked as if he was on Rest Mode.

“Hey Vin,” MacCready whispered to his husband, “Don’t think anyone would miss us here, how about we make tracks for the Rexford?”

"Sure thing. Looks like Shaun's already gone to crash at Daisy's. Let's go, lover.…whoop!" As Vin stood, he tipped over backward and was in danger of falling on top of a now-drooling Hancock. Ricky was chatting to the band and Cait was nowhere to be seen.

“Steady there,” Mac’s reflexes were still sharp, and he managed to grab Vin before he landed on Hancock. “That could have been messy,” Mac laughed imagining Hancock being woken by Vin’s bulk landing on him. Keeping his arm firmly on Vin’s he steered him toward the stairs leading out of the Third Rail.“Steady there,” Mac’s reflexes were still sharp, and he managed to grab Vin before he landed on Hancock. “That could have been messy,” Mac laughed imagining Hancock being woken by Vin’s bulk landing on him. Keeping his arm firmly on Vin’s he steered him toward the stairs leading out of the Third Rail.

* * *

**The Rebuttal**

Hancock’s eyes had been on him all night. He wasn’t the type Hancock usually saw here. Most people who set foot in Goodneighbor were grimy druggies down on their luck. People who God or Atom or whoever the fuck was controlling this shit forgot. The ghoul who’d caught Hancock’s interest, however, was different. He was very attractive, an unusual sight for sore eyes compared to most of the people in this town. For the first time, Hancock actually felt a little nervous. He wanted this guy, bad. He shifted in his seat, thinking about the best way to approach the ghoul when Fahrenheit spoke up. 

“Oh my god just go over there already. Jesus your squirming is killing me.” She complained. Hancock jumped slightly. He hadn’t realized he was being obvious. When he just looked at Fahrenheit and didn’t reply, she spoke again. “Are you feeling alright, Hancock? You don’t usually take this long to go talk to people.” Hancock blinked himself out of his stupor.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna, I was just thinking.” He smiled at his bodyguard, ruffling her hair as he stood. She swatted his hand away and picked up her beer. Hancock began to walk from his corner table with Fahrenheit over to the bar, where the ghoul had just finished his drink. Hancock reached the bar and slid coolly into the empty seat next to the handsome stranger. He didn’t acknowledge Hancock but that didn’t deter him. 

“Can I get you another?” The ghoul smirked and without so much as looking at Hancock, replied.

“How many times has that actually worked?” the ghoul’s voice was raspy, yet smooth. It made Hancock’s heart skip a beat.

“You’d be surprised,” he turned to Whitechapel Charlie who was washing a glass, “Hey Chuck, get me two whiskeys, top shelf if you would.” 

“Of course Mayor Hancock, on the house.” Hancock turned back to the still seemingly uninterested stranger sitting on the stool next to him. 

“Haven't seen you around before. You new in town?” 

“I guess you would know everyone here, wouldn’t you Mr.Mayor?” The ghoul’s sarcastic tone was not lost on Hancock. He chuckled and nodded to Charlie as the bartender set down the drinks. 

“I guess I would. Say, you seen the inside of the Old State House yet?”

“Can’t say I have.” The stranger picked up his glass.

“Maybe after this drink we can get out of here and I can show you around. What do ya say?” Hancock grinned. The stranger smiled too, but it was reserved, cooler, as if he was thinking of something Hancock didn’t know about. 

“Well, Mayor Hancock,” The man lifted his drink and downed it in one smooth movement, “I appreciate the offer,” He placed the glass back down on the bar and leaned towards Hancock til their faces were inches apart. Hancock gulped. One good thing about being a ghoul was that when he blushed, it didn’t show. “But you haven’t even asked my name,” the ghoul’s raspy voice all but whispered, “and I don’t go home with strangers.” He smiled wider and leaned back before standing. Hancock was speechless when the man turned to leave. 

“Better luck next time!” The handsome ghoul called back as he walked out of The Third Rail. Did that just happen? Hancock couldn’t remember the last time he was turned down like that. A weird feeling flipped Hancock’s stomach and gripped his heart. All of these feelings of want without the ease of having wasn’t something the mayor had experienced for a while. It was a burn for sure, but it was also exciting. Hancock found himself on the brink of laughter. A mirthful grin stuck on his face as he began to sip his drink. Damn, Hancock hoped that guy stuck around. His presence would certainly make things around here more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Rebuttal was written by Nuka-Coola (Tumblr) (https://archiveofourown.org/users/NukaCoola/pseuds/NukaCoola)
> 
> without knowing who the ghoul I had in mind was when I placed the request. It fit so perfectly, it had to come and live here!


	10. Lucked Out 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper Wright needs to see Vincent but he has been avoiding her. Ricky Gee gets interviewed.

ISSUE 4 - 'In the Bosom of the Corsair Queen'

Their night at Hotel Rexford was a stark contrast to the first few times they'd stayed there. These days, none of the walls had holes and were actually painted. All of the beds boasted clean sheets. A new Miss Nanny had been done up as a maidbot to handle the room maintenance and Claire at the front desk was actually much more genial. Business was booming since Mayor Hancock had become part of the Minutemen as Brigadier-General. He now oversaw a Neighborhood Watch in several settlements, which allowed him to move around and help more people; he had a special touch with the misfits, the ex-raiders and the chem junkies, not to mention the admiration of most ghouls.

Vincent woke with MacCready's arm over his face. He smiled, tickling said arm with the bristles of his moustache.

“Eurgh, my mouth feels like something died in there,” Mac’s first words as he stirred were honest if nothing else. “I really hope I didn’t embarrass myself or you too much last night!” He moved his arm, scratching the itch induced by Vin’s moustache with a rueful grin, before levering himself from the bed to dash for the bathroom. His disembodied voice wafted back into the bedroom. “I just gotta clean my teeth and drink some water. Can I get you anything, Vin?”

Vincent lifted his head and exclaimed. "Oww. Fucknuke.… Med-X? Damn neck's got a crick in it again," a short pause…"then you back in bed with me?"

Mac fumbled in his backpack for the Med-X, finding it almost straightaway. He mumbled thanks to an unknown deity and took it back to the bed. Clambering in beside his husband, Mac handed Vin the Med-X, his hand resting on Vin’s chest, gently stroking his chest hair. “Would you like me to try and give your neck a massage?”

"Oh, heavens to Vault-Betty, yes," Vin replied, downing the painkiller.

Vincent breathed deeply under the familiar touch, the knot dissolving quickly. "Did I ever tell you how good you are at this, Mac?"

“A few times, but please feel free to blow smoke up my ass anytime you like! It’s always welcome!” MacCready loved hearing his lover’s praise and wasn’t shy in soliciting it. He carried on massaging Vin’s neck and shoulders, feeling the tension leaving the older man’s body.

The off-duty Sentinel-General groaned with pleasure. "The best. If you ever retire, you should set up a barbershop slash masseuse business. Second thoughts, no. I wanna keep this talent o' yours for myself. Mmm…much better."

“What else do you want to keep for yourself, hmm?” Mac started to extend the scope of his massage, running his hands over Vin’s chest and finely-honed torso.

Vin ran his hands through MacCready's eternally sticking-up hair. "This," he cupped Mac's peach-fuzzed jaw and kissed his mouth, softly, "this…." his kiss moved down Mac's bare chest, "…aaaaall of this," his kisses trailed down to Mac's hips and he benched-pressed Mac's entire body up off the bed.

Mac’s blue eyes opened wide in shock. “Argh! Careful now! Your back! Your neck!”

"Stop fussin'. They're supported," he slowly lowered Mac down on top of him, showing off his strength and control. "..and so are you," he added.

Mac rolled his eyes and harrumphed, feeling that he had to put up some sort of fight when Vin showed his strength. He couldn’t keep up the pretence for more than a couple of seconds, as it was no secret that he loved to feel protected and nurtured by Vin. 

His eyes darted to the door, “Say shouldn’t we put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob? We don’t want Miss Nanny Maidbot or whatever she’s called barging in on us.” Before Vin had the chance to reply Mac was on his mismatched feet, scampering to the door and opening it a fraction and hanging the tatty but functional sign on the external doorknob.

“There,” Mac launched himself back onto the bed with an athletic leap. “Now where were we?” His hands went back to the satisfying task of roaming all over Vin’s body. He lifted the sheet slightly and cocked his eyebrow, “Now, we wouldn’t want Miss Nannybot seeing _that_! It might cause her a serious malfunction! And we certainly wouldn’t want her seeing this either…” Mac had made his way down to the part of Vin’s body that may or may not have offended the cleaning bot, his mouth starting to kiss, tease and tantalise Vin’s cock in equal measure.

A few short years ago, this masculine intimacy had scared him. Now it was as natural as breathing, as he'd learned to allow himself to love MacCready fully. They did things together that Vin had never tried with Nora. When his muscles burned and he slowed for them to both catch their breath, he nuzzled into MacCready's neck. "I love you, hero," he said.

“I love you too, Vin. Happy ‘meeting’ anniversary. I can’t imagine what the last seven years would have been like if you hadn’t walked into that VIP room and hired me. You saved me. And you saved Duncan.” Mac’s eyes welled up with emotion.

Vincent kissed MacCready's forehead, then placed a sweet, tender kiss on his lips. "You've saved me so many times, Robert Joseph MacCready." He stared into those beautuful, almond-shaped blue eyes with his green ones.  
"I really, really enjoyed your song last night," Vincent said. "I just wish you didn't need the dutch courage to perform, y'know? Hey, you and Ricky should duet. Next time he's got a guitar. Whaddya think?"

“Get me some more of those blue cocktails of Charlie’s and I might think about it!” Mac blushed a deep shade of crimson recalling his performance. “Was I really good, or are you biased?” Mac affected nonchalance but his need for validation was almost tangible.

"Maybe you didn't understand…'dutch courage' means using booze to be brave. Has that phrase gone an' died out too? I mean, sing _without_ the drink. Especially those nasty blue cocktails."   
Vin started pulling on his shorts. "And yes, I'm biased but yes, Mac, you really _are_ that good. Everybody said so. Even Diesel Dan!"

Vin paused, admiring his wiry, handsome hubby.

"Look, we'd better head off, I s'ppose. Nick told me Piper wants to see us. Truth be told, I've been avoiding her for too long," Vin admitted.

“Ok, if we have to go we best go while it’s still early. Less crazies about to hamper our progress. Hmm Diesel Dan thought I was good did he?"

Vin, smiling, nodded.

"Well, it’s practically impossible for him to tell a lie so I s’pose I must be alright.” Mac started to get himself dressed and ready to go. “Had we best check for any casualties of last night in the Third Rail? Where did Ricky sleep?” Mac had been completely unconcerned where Ricky bunkered down last night whilst in the grip of alcohol, but this morning it had occurred to him that he had upped and left while the ghoul was still in the bar.

"They're all big boys and girls. Umm..Ricky booked room 3a. He said he'd wait for us."

Mac paused for a moment, as Vin’s comment sunk in, his concern for Ricky stalled momentarily and he eyed Vin suspiciously, “Avoiding Piper, why would you be avoiding Piper?” Mac had previously assumed that their respective paths hadn’t crossed in a while, rather than active avoidance as Vin seemed to imply with his remarks.

"Cause o' how she feels about _you_ , dummy." Vin waited for some kind of recognition.

“Bah, she banters with me that’s all. She knows I’m married to you anyway, so whilst I’m obviously irresistible she must know there’s nothing doin’.” If Piper liked him, it was news to Mac. Welcome news in that it was an ego boost, but Mac feared Vin was barking up the wrong tree on this one.

"That whole, 'Never in a million years' thing…you didn't fall for that literally, did you? She's been trying to hide it from _me_ for years. Not very well. Detective, y'see? It got…awkward."

Mac was his usual oblivious self, “Well, I don’t see how it’s awkward for you, I’m not interested in her. And I still think you’re wrong on this one, Vin!”

"Well…I wasn't always so sure that you'd stay with me, y'know. You're not the only insecure one. For the record, Piper was _definitely_ sweet on you. I….I didn't want you two in the same room, alright?" Vin was now quite flustered as he bent to lace his boots.

MacCready waited until Vin had finished lacing his boots. He tenderly kissed Vin on the lips before saying, “You’ve never had anything to worry about Vin, ever. I haven’t even so much as looked at anyone else since we got together. Well, maybe I looked but I always turned back to you and realised there was nobody better.”

* * *  
Valentine and Ricky Gee met Shaun, Vin and Mac in the lobby. They suited up, sorted ammo and snacks and headed off to the Great Green Jewel.

It was a peaceful and uneventful journey. With Brotherhood guardposts well outside the extended boundary in what was called the Orange Zone, Diamond City thrived. It now embraced ghouls again and was all the better for it. Myrna no longer refused to serve Synths after the Sentinel-General had paid her a visit with his then-still-childlike son Shaun. The Brotherhood only shot Gen 1's and 2's on sight, not the sentient, humanlike Genthree's. 

Piper woke late; even so, Nat was still snoring, late for her paper round yet again. "Teenagers!" she muttered and tried to wriggle out from the bedclothes. It didn't help that a certain someone had wrapped her up like a cocoon again, nor that someone else chose that very moment to rap on the door.

"Nat! Natalie! Get the door!" Piper yelled. She heard only a grumble in response so called out, "Be right out!" and gave up trying to disentangle herself from the sheet and quilt and instead stood up, still cocooned like a fat caterpillar.

"Dun, dun-dun Dun" went the beat on the door. She recognised the pattern and carefully shuffled downstairs. "Blue?! (Ah crap.) Hang on, Blue!"

Outside, MacCready and Vin stood waiting. Shaun had gone to the office with Valentine to pick up some Proctor-related paperwork and, truth be told, he enjoyed the old Synth's company. Valentine would always tell him stories about his Dad.

Vin knocked again and MacCready was first in line to behold the padded reporter.

“What’s this? New Diamond City fashion I hadn’t heard about?” Mac snickered at Piper’s ensemble. If she really was sweet on him she managed to hide it well, as she mumbled something unrepeatable about snarky snipers.

"Hey, Team Teal!" (As Vin's nickname was Blue and Mac always wore green, she'd mixed the colours to come up with new appellations to tease them with.)

“Teal’s a duck, Piper, we’re not ducks so duck off!” Mac grinned, pleased with his wit, and he turned to see if Vin was appreciative of his retort.

Nope. Both Vin and Piper looked equally puzzled. There may as well have been a tumbleweed drifting by.

"Come on in!" Piper grinned, though Vin noticed how tired she looked. She turned her head to yell "NAAAT! We got company!" then turned back to Vin and Mac. "Looking good, Mac…um. Just be a sec, boys."

MacCready realised that something was missing. "Hey, where's Gramps?"

Vin, his bottom about to land on the couch said "Thought he was right behind us! Better go find him."

Mac poked his head out and spotted Ricky next door at Kathy and John's Super Salon, talking to John and getting his pompadour wig preened.

“Hey Gramps, we’re just in here,” Mac gesticulated at the door of Publick Occurences, “Just tap on the door when you’ve finished peacocking!”

Ricky performed a faux salute as an acknowledgement that the message was received and understood.

“Who were you just yelling at?” Piper queried Mac as he came back in.   
“Oh you’ll find out soon enough…” Mac smiled archly, knowing there was nothing that bugged Piper more than being kept in the dark.

Vin shouted up the stairs to Piper, who was making shuffling noises, clanging coathangers and occassionally grunting.

"Sorry it took me so long to visit, Piper."

"You don't know what you missed, Blue. Brotherhood keepin' you boys busy?" she asked, then muttered to herself, "(No, that won't work)."

"More like we're keeping them busy. Y'know, chain of command and all that."

Piper just mumbled something unintelligible in response.

Finally, someone rapped on the door. MacCready opened it for Ricky and they sat next to Vin on the sofa. Nat had made coffee and shared mugs around.

The journalist descended the stairs slowly and carefully. Mac was imbibing coffee when he looked up and saw her and nearly sprayed everyone.

Piper Wright was heavily pregnant!

“Put ya teeth back in, MacCready. You never seen a pregnant woman before!” Piper turned to MacCready, whose mouth was still agape with shock.  
“How? When?” Mac was almost incoherent.  
“Oh c’mon MacCready, I think we all know _how_!” Piper retorted.

“Well, eurgh congratulations.” Mac wondered if he should enquire who the father was, but decided to leave that to Vin, he’d made enough faux pas for one day. Instead, he changed the subject, introducing Ricky to the intrepid reporter.

"Well, a beautiful flower in bloom," crooned Ricky "Pleasure to meet you Miss Wright. I've heard your interviews on the radio, ain't I?"

Piper shook the ghoul's hand and blushed a little. "Yes! Publick Occurances ran the _best_ interviews maybe six years ago, though…I've been _trying_ to get certain guests back," she said, throwing a glare in Vin's direction, "for a while now." Piper's face suddenly lit up and she carried on before anyone could enquire further about the bump. "Hey, so, you must have a tonne of stories if you're MacCready's grandpa?"

Vin put a hand out. "Slow down there, automatic Piper rifle. Let the man drink his coffee while you tell us about…" Vin gestured toward her rotund abdomen, "that. I mean, congratulations! Who's the..um..is there a…?"

Piper plonked herself heavily into an armchair with an amused grin. "Oh, you're just desperate to know who knocked up the reporter, aren't you. Ooh, was it a hit and run or a secret liason? Maybe if you'd dropped by, say, **eight months ago** I might have told you straight but.."

Piper's tirade was interrupted by the door opening again and a familiar face peering around. "Gumdrop, did I leave my…oh, hi, sirs!"

Danny Sullivan entered the office-come-apartment and shook Vincent and MacCready's hands. Vin smirked sidelong at Piper and stood to clap his old friend on the shoulder. "Hey Danny, good to see you! How did we miss this bombshell?" 

"What, I thought you said you'd written to the Sentinel-General honey?" Danny quizzed.

"I did! About twelve times. Never sent any though because…nevermind. They're here now, plus, excuse me sir, Ricky Gee, was it?" The old ghoul nodded. "Can you believe that's MacCready's grandpa?!" 

"Great, great, great, great, great Gramps," clarified Mac, counting the 'great's off on one hand. Nat, huddled in a corner with her coffee and a book, just said, "Yeah."

"Well," Danny said, "sorry I can't stay, I'm on duty. Just need to grab that," he said, sliding his right armguard out from between the armchair and Piper's back. "We've only got a month to go, Doc Sun says. I'm gonna be a Poppa!" With that, the head of the Diamond City Security returned to his work.

Piper looked at Ricky, you could almost see her taking mental notes. "So Mr. Gee, what say we interview you later today? Um..are you staying long?" 

Gee smiled and replied, "Well, we have a very important meeting with young Grognak this evening so it would have to be soon, doll."

"Okie dokie, then, say an hour? Good."

Piper turned to Mac. "It took him three years after he got shot to admit he had feelings for me…" Piper shrugged, "it took me about as long to get over you, Longshot. I'm glad you're happy though. Blue's the only one good enough for you."

MacCready felt like a man that had wandered into a theatre halfway through a performance, desperately trying to fill in missing plot holes. So, Vin had been correct and Piper had actually liked him? Well, when viewed through that lens certain puzzling aspects of her past behaviour made sense. Despite the complex thoughts he was processing, all he could say to Piper was, “Eurgh, thanks, I think.” Then he started to toy with his cigarette box and hope someone would fill the ensuing awkward silence.

Vin shuffled his foot on the floor. "So…got any names picked out?

"Yeah. We're thinking of the names Brooke or Beck. Whaddya think, _R.J._?" Piper was going to let Vin stew a while for having been avoiding her.

“Yeah, they seem like great names,” Mac was happy the subject had been changed and started to talk about babies and their care with Piper.

Nat finished her coffee and grumbled "Oh for the wall's sake, not babynames again! I'm gonna do my paper round. Seeya Mr. Hudson, Pal-Major."

"Bye Nat. Say hi to Mr. and Mrs. Zwicky for me."

The teenager shut the door behind her and Piper sighed. "That'll be fun to go through again in sixteen years," she said. More quietly, she added, "Vincent, have you been avoiding me?"

Mac, too aware of his Gramps being party to this conversation, leapt in to rescue his husband.

“Him? He’s been avoiding everyone – off on missions here there and everywhere, and all of them hush-hush. I’ve hardly seen him myself these past few months” Mac hoped that he had done enough to deflect the shrewd reporter.

Vin frowned at this. "Hey, it's hard to get us both on the same assignment when we got two boys to look after…and before you bring it up _again_ R.J..." ( _uh oh,_ thought MacCready _he only calls me that these days when he's trying to soften a blow.._ ) "it ain't on account o' your leg!"

MacCready felt slightly aggrieved. He had been trying to do Vin a favour and get him off the hook with Piper. Ok, so maybe he had said it _slightly_ more vehemently than he’d intended, but at least Piper wasn’t quizzing Vin anymore. He saw Piper eagerly waiting for a riposte, and he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of inferring there was trouble in paradise, when there wasn’t. “I know Vin, I was just explaining to Piper why you hadn’t been around,” Mac said meekly, hoping Vin would get the hidden inference.

Vincent was about to say something further when he caught MacCready's eye, held a breath and then huffed it out. Turning to Piper, he said,  
"Look. I apologise. It's been a crazy few months. I should have come and said 'hi' sooner. In any case, Pipes, I'm real happy for you and Danny. Just wish I'd a known sooner. My fault."

Turning to Ricky, he said, "Hey, Lucky um..why don't we leave you to do the interview with Piper here and when you're done, grab a bowl o' Power Noodles an' come knock on our door. Yeah, we have a place here, red door next to the Power Armor stand, can't miss it."

Ricky readily agreed, (having taken a shine to Piper Wright) and waved them off.

"Don't worry, Longshot, I'll take care of your Gramps here. It'll be fun! It's been ages since I've done a face to face! An' Blue…?"

"Yeah, Piper?"

"I'm real happy for you boys too. Sorry I didn't make the wedding."

Vin ushered Mac out of the door before either of them need say more.

Back at Homeplate MacCready sprawled on the sofa. “Well, that was an interesting morning. At least you don’t have to worry about Piper anymore Vin. Not that you ever did.” Mac saw Vin preparing to say something, and shushed him with a kiss, “Let’s forget about it now, you’re happy, I’m happy and Piper seems happy with Danny so all’s well that ends well.”

Vincent grinned. "You hungry? 

Now Vin mentioned it, Mac realised that he had built up quite the appetite. “Yeah, fancy going out for some noodles?” Mac had already taken a peek in the cupboards and there hadn’t been much there to pique the appetite. In fact, there wasn’t anything but long-life packet food at Homeplate, they hadn’t visited in so long.

"Takahashi can wait ten minutes. I was thinking more along the lines of…an appetizer?"

He took off his Atom Cats jacket and flung it on a chair, rolled up his white t-shirt sleeves, exposing all three tattoos and arms that were still in peak condition.

Mac smiled, “Sure, what did you have in mind?” He closed the distance between him and his husband and took him in an embrace. “How about this for starters?” followed up by a passionate kiss.

Vincent's stomach growled, loudly. "Oh, alright belly, I hear ya. I'll have to wait for dessert," he grinned, "But let me bring the noods back here. I don't fancy eating in public right now.

* * *  
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ma'am an' good luck with the littl'un," said Ricky Gee as he left Publick Occurances.

He turned left, went past Moe's and then right down the alley until he saw the familiar red neon sign. He'd had one just like it, above his and Sofia's bed, a heart with cupid's arrow. The door opened just as he was reaching for the handle and Shaun, surprised, grinned at him. 

"Hey Gramps! Wanna grab some noodles?"

Ricky replied, "Order me some. I need a quick word with Detective Valentine, 'kay?"

Shaun agreed and sauntered off. 

"Come in," drawled the familiar voice. Inside the office, Nick was just putting away some papers, a lit cigarette curling smoke from where it rested on the ash tray.

"Hey, Nick. Busy?" Ricky leaned, greaser fashion, against the doorframe. 

"Yeah but I've always got time for you, kiddo," he replied, a smile playing on his grey, synthetic lips.

"Looks like you could do with an apprentice or two," Ricky commented, nodding toward a pile of case files on Ellie's unattended desk. 

"Now that ain't a bad idea, Ricky Gee. Might even open up an office at Starlight City, come to think on it."

"Heh. May I sit?"

"Sure, sure."

"Here's the rest o' what's owed, plus a little extra." Ricky slapped a fat roll of caps down and a wad of Appalachian Treasury Notes. "You might need to spend those down at Foundation, though," he said, poking the wad with a gnarled finger.

"Well thanks, kiddo."

"Listen, Nick…I came to say goodbye. I'm only gonna be around for a week, then I'm gone. I just needed you ta know how grateful I am for all the help you've ever given me…well, you an' the Mysterious Stranger." He smiled enigmatically and put out his hand to shake Nick's. The old Synth got up, took it and pulled him into a hug.

"It's been a long road, eh, kiddo?" Nick released the embrace to hold Ricky at arm's length, sensing something unsaid and silently acknowledging it.

"Thankyou, pal." With that, he left to join Shaun at the Power Noodles stand.

They ate quickly, mindful of the passing daylight and returned to Mac and Vin as they were cleaning their bowls. "Hey, fellas," Ricky said, "better agitate the gravel if we're gonna catch young Grognak fer another thrillin' episode, eh?"

The four gathered their things and, armed and armoured made it back to Sanctuary before dusk. Duncan was waiting for them Issue 4, clutched in one hand. Shaun voiced a selection of very convincing pirates and Mac outdid himself as the Corsair Queen by doing an impression of Cait. Another day ended in laughter and the warm company of family.


	11. Lucked Out 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vin and Ricky take a spin. It's Poetry Night!

ISSUE 5 - 'Demon Slaves, Demon Sands'

"Mornin', sleepyhead," Vin crooned, echoing Mac's phrase back to him. The sun shone through the cracks in the outer wall boards, eeking its way past the old steel wall frame beyond and the panels and posters, throwing thin lines of golden light onto the shabby brown carpet where old, grey Dogmeat snored.

In the room across the hall, Duncan still slumbered…until a 'clunk' from the basement downstairs alerted him to Shaun doing his morning exercise. He shuffled out of bed to his fathers' room. He opened his mouth to say 'Good Morning' but a yawn escaped first. Then he sleepily said, 

"When can we read the next Grognak, Dad? Pop?"

MacCready awoke, tangled in Vin's embrace.

It took him a few moments to recall where he was, he’d been dreaming of Lucy. The rare happy dreams, of the family together. He felt discombobulated as he realised where he was, but unlike the old days where he’d woken from happy to dreams to grim reality this time the reality was just as good as the dreams.   
Duncan was still waiting impatiently for an answer to his Grognak question which he repeated with more urgency in his voice. Mac took a deep breath, feeling more awake with every second. “Soon, son, soon. Just not yet! It’s way too early.”

Vin added, "Yeah, stretches and exercises, _both of you_ he demanded. Being at home was never an excuse to slack off basic personal maintenance, the Sentinel-General believed. "Then I'll cook, alright?"

Father and son were united in their grumbles. Mac extricated himself from the bed, blinking and dishevelled. He was still feeling the after effects of Charlie’s noxious blue cocktails two days later, and he found himself wondering again what the hell the robot barkeep put in them. He knew that excuses wouldn’t cut it, so trying to set a good example to Duncan he started on his exercise regime, encouraging his son to start too. The boy set to with considerably more energy that his father, and it wasn’t long before they had both completed the routine. They both wandered into the kitchen to see how Vin was getting on with breakfast.

Vincent did his own morning exercise routine and sorted breakfast. "Hey Mac, I promised your Gramps I'd give him a ride on 'Cap'n Cosmos' today. Just for a half-hour, no further than Starlight City. That alright?

“Course it is, I’m sure he’ll get a huge kick of that. Just don’t be getting carried away, we want you both back in one piece!” Mac knew that once Vin and Ricky were in full biker mode, their perception of time would alter, so he added, “If you two get delayed just let us know, ok?”

"Don't worry Mac, I'll get the old PIP-boy to remind me when fun time's over. Now…hey, eat up, MacDunc."

Vin shovelled the last of his food into his mouth, stood up and kissed MacCready on the top of the head. "Make sure Shaun's eaten, wouldya? I'll go grab Gramps. See you boys later!"

Mac set about doing the washing up, and once that was done he went down to the basement. Shaun was still down there but appeared to have finished his exercises. “Have you eaten yet, Shaun?” Shaun shook his head, “There’s loads left from breakfast upstairs, please come up and join us.” Shaun readily agreed and followed Mac up the rickety stairs into the main part of the house.

He heard the roar of the jet motorbike engine and sighed wistfully. "Ever think he'll let me drive that, Pa?"

“Short answer – no!” Shaun’s face fell at Mac’s answer. “But don’t worry, I’m sure that between us we can persuade him – just a case of whittling away. Maybe if you got some experience on another bike without wrecking it, he could be persuaded more easily. Do you know anyone with one?”

"Um..Mac…I think that's the only working bike in the entire Commonwealth. The Brotherhood mechs looked into them and pronounced them 'emitted volume unacceptable; enemy alert: high risk' …plus most roads are too broken up not to crash one. Dad spent half a day working out a smooth route."

“Oh well, in that case I’d keep whinging and begging, it works for me.” Mac couldn’t see what all the fuss was about and was inclined to agree with the Brotherhood mechanics on this one.   
“Do you think he’ll let me have a go?” Duncan piped up. Mac tried to be conciliatory but there was no chance that he himself, as Duncan’s dad, would let Dunc anywhere near Cap’n Cosmos anytime soon even if Vin had agreed to it.   
“Maybe one day… “ Mac hoped that would be the end of Duncan’s motorcycling ambitions.   
“Did Gramps have a motorbike? Will Dad let him ride it on his own?” Duncan changed tack, and was now more interested in asking questions about his Grampa than wanting to ride the motorbike.   
“I don’t know Dunc, I don’t know, you’ll have to ask Gramps when he gets back. But give him a chance to recover from the bike ride first!” Mac remembered the first time he’d been on the back of the Cap’n, he’d needed some time to readjust having never been on anything so fast before.

Shaun frowned and chewed his lip. Mac knew he wanted to say something.

Mac stood up to go into the kitchen and indicated that Shaun follow him. Once they were out of Duncan’s earshot Mac said in a quiet voice to his step-son ”What’s up Shaun? Anything the matter?”

"There's only been one recorded case of a ghoul going feral, right? That guy you found remains of at Croup Manor? How do we know for sure it always happens? I mean, that guy was surrounded by his feral family and maybe if Ricky has been around mostly regular people he'll be fine, right? Man he must be, like, two hundred and twenty seven or so. Nick told me he put him in witness protection when he was Duncan's age. Crazy how Valentine's, I don't know, soul kinda splintered off an' Ricky saw it as a Mysterious Stranger when he got let outta the vault…" Shaun finally had to take a breath and Mac took the opportunity to jump in.

“Look Shaun, I can’t give ya any guarantees if that’s what you’re looking for, but if the worst happens, we will all deal with it together. I think it’s unlikely that Gramps will go feral though, I mean if he was going to then he would have by now.” Mac felt as if he was fobbing Shaun off, but he didn’t want to lie to him or give him false reassurances.

"It's like, crazy man. Hey, so how about that whole thing with Valentine, huh? Old Nick says he remembers…weirdsville."

In the other room, Dogmeat growled playfully as he tugged an old rope with Duncan.

“Hey, don’t worry about it Shaun, I feel a bit strange about suddenly finding out I have a 200 and something years old relative myself. I guess we’ll all get used to it.” Mac gave Shaun a gentle tap on the arm, and beckoned Shaun back into the lounge. “Shall we go and join the others?”

"Dammit, Mac, your not listening to me again." Shaun was impeccable about respecting his superior officers whilst on duty but at home he reverted to an emotional teen in front of his step-father. "I was talking about Valentine being the ghost man…you know what, never mind. Go play tug-o-war."

“I listened, I answered. What more do you want Shaun? I haven’t got the answers to life, the universe and everything!” Mac went through to the lounge, leaving Shaun to cool down.

Shaun frowned and stormed after him. "No you didn't! You've said _nothing_ about Valentine being the Mysterious Stranger! I mean, its huge! A guy's brain gets copied and some of it floats around and attaches itself to Ricky in a weird, appears-actually shoots stuff- then vanishes way…then gets, like, a full body transplant and remembers the whole fucking thing?! You just don't get Synths, _Mac_." He stormed toward the front door.

Mac sighed, “I wish I knew, don’t worry Dunc, it’s me he’s mad at not you.” Mac turned to ruffle Dogmeat’s shaggy head. “If only everything in life was as uncomplicated as you boy.” He pondered the Mysterious Stranger, yes it was weird, but what more could he say than that? He knew nothing much about science and was apt to just accept the weirdness and roll with it rather than try to get into the whys and wherefores. Maybe he should have taken the boy’s concerns more seriously but he hated problems he couldn’t fix, and this one fell firmly into that category.

“I suppose I better go and see where Shaun’s gone, will you stay with Dogmeat, Dunc? I shouldn’t be more than a few moments.” Mac moseyed out of the house and observed Shaun’s retreating figure slowly walking along the street. He picked up his pace and within seconds he had caught up with Shaun. 

Mac was a reluctant disciplinarian, and if it had been down to him, he would have not pursued Shaun, reasoning that when he was 16 he was far worse than Shaun. However, he knew this sort of excuse wouldn’t cut the mustard with Vin, and to that end he decided to play ‘good cop’ to Vin’s absent ‘bad cop’.

“Hey, Shaun,” Mac was slightly out of breath, but his voice came out strongly.   
Shaun turned around with a surly, “What?”

“Look, I understand your frustration but it’s really not on to swear at me in front of Duncan. What do you think your father would say if I told him?” Mac noted Shaun’s expression change to slightly anxious. It appeared his tactic was working.  
“I urgh, umm, I’m sorry Pa. You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Shaun’s whole demeanour had changed from defiant to apologetic.

“Not this time, but don’t you be making a habit of it, or you’ll give me no choice. Let’s go back to the house and start over, shall we?” Mac held out his hand for Shaun to shake.

“Ok, agreed, I guess I’m looking for answers that no one can give me.” Shaun said as he shook Mac’s proffered hand.

* * *  
Vincent Hudson rolled up to the barracks door where Ricky Gee sat chatting to Sturges.

"There she is! Cherry, Spangled Midnight Blue paintjob, mark two jet…" Sturges drooled but Vin interrupted,

"Hey cat, don't steal my thunder!"

Besides Vin, Sturges was the only one who had been allowed to drive it and then only for his mechanics' ear assessment.

Ricky laughed deep in his chest, which turned to coughing. The coughing seemed to go on and on. Vin grabbed a Purified.

"Hey, man, Drink this. Easy!" 

The coughing fit ceased and Ricky gave the half-full can back. "Glass o' dirty water'd be better. Not fer the taste, man alive. The rads help."

"I'll git it," Sturges offered, grabbing a clean mug off a nearby shelf.

"You sure you're okay, Ricky? We can ride another day?"

"No, sir, I'll be fine. I ain't gonna miss this! Never did get to ride one. Apparently, 'ccordin' to my kin, ten was too young to ride a motorcycle but not too young to drive a car. Huh. Go figure."

Sturges brought the water, run through a muslin cloth to at least get the silt out and the old ghoul downed it in one. Vin's PIP-boy was close enough to it to be clicking away faintly. He carried on where Sturges had left off.

"So, I sold my old Lone Wanderer to pay for Codsworth over there," he pointed to the contentedly mutfruit-pruning mechanical. "My Pop and I put in Roller Roy Rims and an upgraded fuel transfer system. Old Ike bought it and…well…I found it next to his grave one day, out by that old garage past Concord that wouldn't sell to Red Rocket. Ike's Bikes. Must've spent half my youth there. I was given a preserved Lone Wanderer so we restored the rims and fuel injector and did this one up. Paint came all the way from Nuka-Galaxy! "

"Oh, so…you're local, huh?"

"Boston born an' bred."

"It was a shock, huh, seein' daylight again an' the world all broke? My vault was in a forest an' it took a while to sink in…when I eventually got back to Flatwoods…" Ricky's face clouded over.

Vincent fought back resurging memories, his jaw clenching. He threw Ricky a bandana and a flight helmet, then strapped his own combat armour helmet on. "Here, let's go blow that smoke away."

The two pre-war survivors roared out of Sanctuary on the restored and modified Lone Wanderer. Vin couldn't help but remember riding into the country for a picnic with his cousin Vaughn, then taking Nora to the Drive-In (and how she vowed never to '…ride that damn donor-cycle again!'). Ricky rode shotgun as if he'd been doing it for years, including firing an actual shotgun at attacking stingwings who mistook the jet buzz for a mating call.

They took a break at Starlight Drive-In to grab a Slocum's Joe. Ricky was impressed to see the coffee shop up and running and enjoyed a quick donut. Vin took the opportunity to pry a little.

"You're not doing so great, are you Mr. Gee?"

"Drop the formals, cat. Told ya, Lucky Ricky is just fine." 

He didn't sound fine. Then again, ghouls rarely did. Vin had never delved too deep into the subject of the ghoulish physique, though Curie found it fascinating. He was, after all, almost two hundred and thirty years old. 

"Okay, Lucky. Do we need to take you to a doc? Curie's the best I know."

"No, no. She can't help. Hey…not a word o' this to my boy Robert Joseph, you hear?"

"Your choice, old man," Vin said kindly.

"Hey, you're the _old man_ here, albeit perfectly preserved as pie, soldierboy," Ricky said with undisguised jealousy.

Vincent just laughed at the sheer audacity of the old greaser. It was true, Ricky had been born twenty three years after Vincent. Felix, the Vault-Tec Salesman was also envious of Vin's preserved looks. He often had to bite his tongue to remind them of the price he'd paid for his 'smoothskin'. The PIP-boy alarm peeped.

"Alright, Atomcat, time to head back," Vin said. "Remember, if you need to tell me anything, shout in this ear. Anchorage ruined the other one."

They returned just after midday and Ricky dismounted, wearing the biggest grin. He saw Mac saunter over. "That's a kick, ain't it, son? Man it peels out."

“Glad you enjoyed it Gramps, it’s not really my thing. Rather keep my feet on the ground.” Mac turned to Vin, “Hey, welcome back, stranger!”   
Mac was always relieved when Vin returned from his motorbike jaunts in one piece. He kept his worries to himself for fear of raining on Vin’s parade.

Vin took off his bandana and sunglasses and wrapped Mac in a hug."Well hello, handsome."

Shaun joined them, throwing a sheepish smile at MacCready.

"Y'know, Gramps, Dad's got a personal vertibird, since he _is_ the Sentinel, after all - that's his Brotherhood title. General is the Minuteman one. So he painted nose art on it himself, he's so good!"

"You paint?" Ricky asked Vin.

"I try." 

“He’s too modest, Gramps, he’s a true artist! I’ll show you some of his paintings when we are back in the house,” Mac was proud of his husband’s talent, and enjoyed others appreciating his art.

Vin just blushed a bit, muttering something about 'room for improvement'.

"So what's she called, your 'bird?" Ricky enquired.

"Skyfire…you know, after Stella Skyfire from that Captain Cosmos series?"

"Yeah, yeah I recall. That was neat-o."

Vin hummed. "I used to flip over that actress, Jane Farraday. She had one classy chassis."

"Well, it's just about time ta eat." Ricky declared. Mac, would you trust me in your kitchen?" Ricky spotted Duncsn making big eyes at him. "After that, kiddo, we'll read Grognak, alright?"

The family enjoyed an Appalachili, slightly modified to account for local ingredients and with Duncan's containing far less hot stuff. Dogmeat stole the last spoonful of Vin's and was suddenly licking his nose and whining. Shaun gave him a bowl of razorgrain milk, which he lapped up in relief.

The day wore on pleasantly, uninterrupted by duties or chores. Issue five was read as before, this time with less raucous giggles. The 'demon slaves' of the title led to Ricky telling them all about the hive-minded Scorched and the 'demon sands' reminded Vin of a desert training exercise he'd done whilst still a Private in the army. 

Duncan ate supper and went to bed early, whilst Shaun busied himself with household chores to show MacCready that he was truly sorry for his earlier behaviour as well as to get some time alone with his thoughts.

That left the three adults sitting around a campfire outside. The sky was as deep blue as Vin's motorcycle, the moon cresting over the hill.

"You know what it hasn't been in far too long, cats?" Ricky asked. Mac and Vin shook their heads.

"Poetry night!"

Vin's face lit up. He'd not been to the Atom Cat's garage for far too long and missed the creative outlet.

Mac's face, on the other hand, told a different story.

"Alright, Vin, you start. Short an' sweet or go with the flow." He picked up his guitar and played a soft jazz number. Vincent cleared his throat:

"Midnight racin' under midday sun,   
Mem'ries hastening, a world undone,  
Family findin' one another at last,  
Past and future making present..uh…vast."

"Mm, I felt that one. Midnight's the bike, right? Cool. Okay, Mac, go for it son. Just let the words say hello…"

Mac blushed and spluttered, before spitting the words out,  
“Nowadays in the Commonwealth,  
You’ll find all the towns in great health,  
We used to run scared of gunners and raiders,  
But now you will find only settlers and traders,  
All thanks to Vin Hudson,  
My wonderful… husband” Mac blundered over the last line, before making a little bow towards Vin, and exhaling with relief.

Vincent beamed broadly and declared, "Flatterer. Couldn't a done what I did without you an' a cream of the crop, top team of companions backin' me up."

Ricky reached into his pack. "Here, great, great etcetera son-in-law. As an official Atom Cat, I want you ta have this. Used to be my Poetry Night hat." The brown & yellow checked military style cap had an embroidered badge on the front bearing the words 'Helvetia' and 'Fasnacht'. "Ah, there was a celebration - Fast Night - that the robots near us kept loopin'. Happened once a year for a few days, every hour. It was fun. Got that as a memento, along with some freaky-ass masks I got rid of."

As much as the cap was the peak of hideous men's sporting fashion circa 2077, it did rather suit Vin. Perhaps it was the autumnal colours, MacCready thought.

Ricky allowed the last notes to fade. "Well, time to catch some zees, boys. Goodnight."


	12. Lucked Out 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's trouble on the coast. A new breed of Raider launches an attack. Ricky joins Initiate-Proctor Hudson, The Sentinel-General and Paladin-Major, where Cait is holding down the fort.

ISSUE 6 - 'Enter Maula! War Maiden of Mars'

The next morning Mac woke bright and early. Vin was still sleeping soundly so Mac slipped out of the bed taking care not to disturb him. It was unusual for Mac to be up and about so early, but his mind was racing replaying last night’s poetry sessions and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. He pulled on a pair of trousers and took a seat on the veranda, watching the settlement come to life in the morning sun.

The peace of the morning was rudely disrupted by Preston jogging towards the Hudson-MacCready residence. Mac stood up to greet him, wondering what the urgency was.

“Ah, Paladin-Major MacCready glad you’re up and about!” Preston leant on the veranda rail for support.

“What’s wrong, Preston?” Mac felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be urgent _good_ news that brought Preston hotfooting it to his door so early.

“There’s a problem at the Castle – overrun with mirelurks with a side order of raiders.” Preston seemed even more flustered than normal.

“Aw shoot… We were having some great family time too. Oh well, I suppose if it’s something they could handle then they wouldn’t have called for help. Don’t worry Preston, we got it covered, you just concentrate on Lu.” Mac saw the relief in Preston’s face, and was glad that he was able to assuage Preston’s concerns.

Mac hated to be the bearer of bad tidings, and he went back into the house wondering if Vin was awake yet. Shaun was already in the lounge, so Mac spoke to him first. Shaun was eager to accompany them on the mission, so Mac tentatively agreed, subject to Vin’s approval. Duncan would also have to be looked after, and Mac wondered whether he should ask the Longs or Dan. Maybe he’d give Duncan the option.  
Mac opened his bedroom door a crack and peeped in. Vin was awake and sat up in bed, so Mac went in. “We’ve been called out to rescue the Castle, Vin. Sorry but Preston says it’s urgent and there’s no-one else in the area that they can call on.”

"Alright, throw some Sugar Bombs in bowls, we don't leave on empty stomachs. Tell Shaun to get prepped and get Dunc taken care of. I'll throw some clothes on an' ask Ricky if he wants to come with. An extra gun can't hurt an' hell, two top calibre snipers on our side? It'd be foolish not to ask."

Having dispensed orders, Vincent started getting ready, leaving MacCready to wake up Duncan.

Mac tiptoed into Duncan’s room, but he needn’t have bothered, Duncan was already wide awake and reading a comic. “Morning Dunc, How are you today?” Dunc grunted a greeting without averting his eyes from the comic. “Got some good news, you get to spend the day with Dan or the Longs! Me and Pop have to go and save the day again, and we’re gonna take Shaun and Gramps with us too.”  
Duncan looked at his dad through narrowed eyes. “Good news? Hmm. Well, could I choose Dan? You didn’t say anything to the Longs yet did ya? I don’t want to upset them."

“Nope, thought I’d make it your call. I’ll have to get Dan on the radio first though, make sure he’s around.” Mac hoped that he’d managed to make it back from Goodneighbor after the party. He left Duncan and went to the radio transmitter, and tried to make contact with the Red Rocket.  
It wasn’t long before Danse’s clipped and formal tones were heard on the other end of the line, and MacCready asked him if he’d be around to look after Duncan for the day. Danse readily agreed, so MacCready said they’d be there within the hour, Dunc just needed to grab something for breakfast.  
Duncan was excited to spend time with Dan, so he bolted his breakfast down in record time. Mac and Duncan said their goodbyes to the rest of the household and set off on the short walk to the Red Rocket.  
Danse was waiting for them when they arrived, and turned to Duncan with a big grin on his face. “Lovely to see you soldier! We’re going to have some fun today.”  
Mac thanked Danse for helping out at short notice and told him about the mission to the Castle. “Hopefully we should be back before sundown, but I’ll keep you posted,” Mac said to Danse then turned to Duncan, attempting to plant a kiss on the boy’s cheek as Duncan averted it not wanting to seem babyish in front of Dan. Danse and Duncan waved their goodbyes to Mac as he walked briskly along the road back to Sanctuary Hills.

Vin ate quickly, then went down the road toward the barracks. Ricky was next door, working at the armour bench. He looked up when he heard the beefy man approach.

"Hey Ricky, Mac and I are needed at the Castle. I got a 'bird on the way and there's room for one more gun. Care to join us? I can pay you in caps?"

"If I get to be a Minuteman for a day with you boys, Sentinel-General, sir, no caps required. What're we lookin' at?"

"Still waiting on a full report. Mirelurks and Raiders, looks like…Commander."

Vin wasn't about to ignore the old survivor's rank in a military situation. Respect where respect was due. 

"Want to borrow a suit?" Vin asked, gesturing to the T-60, the X-01 and the mismatched Minutemen painted power armour standing at their frames in the garage.

"I do better creepin' by unnoticed," Ricky replied, pulling out a much-patched piece of leg armour with the distinctive chameleon grid of metal studs. He started suiting up.

"Right-o. See you at the pad in ten," Vin said, turning to see Shaun jog that way himself.

As he was heading over the small but now reinforced bridge toward Vault 111, Vin heard Mac's shout.

“Hey, wait for me guys!” MacCready upped his pace to a light jog to catch up with the rest of the party. “Oh hi Gramps,” he said, spotting the ghoul, “Decided to join us?” MacCready was delighted that his long-lost relative would get the chance to see him in action, rather than trying to cobble together poetry or voice act princesses.

Ricky, just ahead of Vincent turned around. "Bring your eagle eyes, son. You wearin' a tincan once we get there?"

Mac shook his head and Vin added how his husband felt that it got in the way of sniping, as keen as he'd been at first to try piloting one.

* * *  
The radio chatter in the Vertibird was nonstop. The Brotherhood were holding down Nordhagen Beach, safeguarding the settlement there. A huge wave of raiders was approaching from the southeast, split into several groups. Spectacle Island, the Minuteman training compound, were holding their own. The raiders were stretched up the coast from the wreck of the FMS Northern Star, which the Atom Cats were all over, to the Libertalia, which seemed to be their main goal.

The lancer flew high over the Castle, circling above the usual landing pad just outside the walls as Vin manned Skyfire's mounted gatling cannon to clear the mirelurk vanguard.

Mac lifted his binoculars to his eyes and scanned the horizon.

“Well, would you look at that!” Mac looked again, in fact several more times to check that his eyes weren’t deceiving him. “Raiders riding Razorclaws, sounds like a good title for my next album…” Mac handed the binoculars to Vin, just to make sure that the distant figures were what he suspected them to be. There was a raft too, with perhaps 3 people on it, but somehow that seemed less remarkable than the Razorclaw rodeo.

Ricky lifted his scope to his eye. "We got maybe twenty, twenty five minutes before they reach us."

Vincent ordered the lancer not to land but instead to drop them by line at the wall. Mac secured Ricky to a line and showed him how to release it quickly once landed. Vin checked Shaun on the second (and last) line, then already being in his power armour, hooked onto the belay loop on Mac's uniform, wrapped his giant, metal-encased arms around his second-in-command and jumped.

“Eurgh, I love these airbourne moments, it’s just the landings I can’t stand,” Mac barely had time to make his utterance before the dreaded landing, which was relatively smooth.

They landed on top of the castle wall, at one of its landward corners. Vin unclipped Mac's safety restraint and the four of them made their way round to the left, where the artillery was installed. They heard Ronnie Shaw before they saw her.

"Goldurnit, this thing was workin' last month, why in the blue heavens ain't it working today, Private?" 

The private, wearing mechanics coveralls, squatted at the giant toothed ring mounting that allowed the huge cannon to be aimed horizontally. "Main gear axel's sheared again, ma'am. This thing's too heavy to shift even with all the hands we can fit to push it."

"Dangit, so it'll only fire due west, inland?" The mechanic nodded making Ronnie's scowl deepen. She noticed the four reinforcements striding towards her and saluted.

"General, good to see you, Sir."

"Ronnie. Looks like they finally learned to work together, huh?" the Sentinel-General said, tilting his head toward the oncoming enemies.

"Mighty glad we did, too," replied Ronnie, glancing at the Prydwen. The sound of distant gunfire could be heard up and down the coastline.

Ricky was crouched, his chameleon armour automatically activated so he made Shaun jump slightly when he stood and reappeared.

"Sir, I count ten or so razorclaws, at least a dozen small boats further out and that weird raft. All the raiders look to be one gang, all got blue-ish facepaint an' some have scuba divers' equipment or tubes o' some sort. Not in snipin' range yet though."

"New recruit?" asked Ronnie.

"No, Sergeant Major, just a helping hand." To Ricky he said, "You and Mac, spread out along the wall facing East." Looking about, he spotted two recruits in Minuteman insignia power armour and beckoned them up.

"Michaels, Miller, give me a hand with this."

Vin directed them to lift the front of the artillery whilst he kicked out the broken part and pivoted it with brute strength until it faced northeast. "Michaels, man this. Watch out, it might kick back some. Figure we've got one or two shots at most. Better than naught. Miller! Round up squad C and get down to the beach." The woman saluted. "Where the hell is Cait?" Vin muttered to himself.

Shaun walked up. "Orders, Sir?"

Vin put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Armory, Private. Keep us supplied and if it comes to it, shut the blast door."

"Yessir," saluted Shaun.

Vin walked along the wall to where Paladin-Major MacCready was stationed. "In range yet?" He raised his own scoped gauss rifle to his eye, noting that his own weapon was not yet registering any clear targets. What he did see though, chilled him.

The raft was raising up out of the water, its three enthroned passengers could clearly be seen now and they were holding…reins. 

"You seeing this, Mac? Is that a…?"

"Mirelurk Queen. Certainly looks that way, sir” Mac had easily slipped back into full military mode. No time now for pet names and fooling around. “Well, I gotta give 10/10 for ingenuity at least.”

"I count three raiders in the palanquin."

"Oh that's what that saddle tent thingy is called…"

Heavy boots thundered up the passage steps. "Heard you be lookin' for me, Boss?"

"Caitlyn, yes. Alright Sergeant, I need you on the front line with Squad C. Mop up anything we can't shoot from a distance. Try and draw the Mirelurk Queen toward the northeast wall. Watch out for the spray. If it gets a hundred yards from the beach, launch this targeting flare. We've maybe only got the one artillery burst.

Cait saluted, grinned gleefully, then affixed her twin power fists and ran off to her post.

The first wave hit soon after. The razorclaws went down first, many by Vin's own hand. MacCready scored a hit on the lead razorclaw rider who was pointing a missile launcher at them. The Minutemen in power armour picked off the straggling riders. Water everywhere was flung upward with the force of exploding grenades, twenty or so boats splintering and sinking, the seaweed-clad, blue-faced raiders spilling out, swimming ashore uttering bloodcurdling cries that ended with the crunch of Cait's fists or the dull thud of silenced rifles.

The sea itself seemed to swell and lift as the largest Mirelurk Queen any of them had ever seen raised herself from the deep. On her back, the trio of raider bosses sat in a palanquin, shielded by the salty queen's carapace. Two of them were each armed with a fatman, the central figure holding the reins.

One of the weapons fired, launching a mininuke that was headed right for the castle's heart but Ricky tracked its path and ignited it at the apogee of its course. It exploded relatively harmlessly. MacCready loaded an explosive round, aimed for the other and managed to take the seawoman's forearm, knocking both severed limb and MIRV into the sea. The giant shellfish was lumbering toward Cait and her squad. Most of them were wearing protective power armour but she always refused it.

Mac shouted over to Ricky, "Aim for the spouts!", thinking they might be able to take one of the tricky targets out each but just moments after he'd spoken, Ricky's sniper rifle had dealt with them both. MacCready had never seen such accuracy at speed.

Vin was leaping toward the beast, jetpack blazing, when a missile hit on his leg spun him round. In that moment, he looked south and saw the submarine lurking at the very edge of the shallows. In the next moment, the pain hit as the realised that the armour casing had been entirely ripped away and a deep wound had appeared on his thigh, bleeding profusely. The suit administered an emergency Stimpak dose, which stopped the bleeding but not the pain. He landed less gracefully than normal, right next to a worry-faced MacCready.

"Mac! They have a sub!" said Vin through gritted teeth. "Get round there, call up B squad to regroup!"

MacCready got on his shoulder mounted radio and rallied the half-a-dozen infantry, rerouting them. 

The Sentinel-General concentrated his fire on the advancing Mirelurk Queen, radioing to Cait to "throw the damn beacon!" and ordering the artilleryman to stand by. 

Blue smoke plumed into the air directly in front of the enormous decapod, which promply scuttled over it. Cait ran forwards, slamming the thing on its underbelly so hard that it staggered backwards, giving her just a moment to dive for cover behind rocks. The huge cannon let off one, jarring boom, directly hitting the queen and cracking her shell. She fell majestically, the palanquin splintering off her back dropping two limp bodies to the sand.

Vin turned his attention to the submarine. His leg wouldn't bear weight, even supported by the suit's frame so he jetted over to land lopsidedly on the opposite wall. A blurry movement, like jellied air, rushed past him, expelling three shots at the emerging crew and Vin realised that Gee was providing covering fire. He raised his own Gauss rifle, aiming all the way back to the machine's propeller. One highly charged shot sent an explosion blossoming out of the rear starboard side. Suddenly, the shallower waters were teeming with dark green, seaweed encrusted figures, each holding what looked like bags under their arms.

It was only when several of these figures reached the wall and put down their wriggling baggage that MacCready saw what they were: mirelurk spawn with mines duct taped to their soft, leathery backs…and they were clustering at the wall. 

"Cryo!" yelled Mac at Vin, pointing. Vincent, Ronnie and the few new recruits now on that side saw and understood the Paladin-Major's order, dropping several cryogenic grenades and mines down upon them, freezing them momentarily. When the 'mine-lurks' shattered upon exploding, they caused far less damage than they might have. The wall was still intact. The Minutemen picked off the mirelurk raiders with relative ease.

The battle lasted far longer than any had expected but eventually, no more figures nor creatures crawled out of the water. No Minutemen had been lost, though some had sustained some serious injuries. Vincent landed in the courtyard in front of MacCready and staggered out of his opened power armour. He turned to see Mac's face drop, suddenly ashen. The air near him was misshapen, light bent as if through a water droplet.

A deep, warbling voice spoke: "Lurkers are many, like waves on the sea. Lurkers tide is out but not for ever. Watch for next tide…we are many." 

Vin saw the glint of sunlight on a bladed chain next to Mac's throat briefly as the marine chameleon suit glitched. He saw panic in his lover's eyes. 

Suddenly a cloud of red exploded behind MacCready and a now-visible body slumped to the floor. From the top of the wall, Ricky Gee stood, revealing himself and saluted. Vin went to run to his husband, forgetting about his injured leg and crashed to the ground.

Mac felt discomfort in his neck and touching his fingers to the painful area they came away bloody and the area he had touched throbbed and stung. It could have been so much worse, it could so easily have been fatal! Gramps’ sharp shooting had saved him, and he was profoundly grateful that his relative had been in the right place at the right time. Adrenaline was keeping Mac going, and the pain diminished, replaced with concern as he rushed towards Vin, sprawled on the ground in his power armour. “Vin, Vin, are you alright? Speak to me.”

"Ahh, fuck. Mostly my pride hurt here but my hip feels wrong. Help me over to the doc?"

Mac crouched down and put his hand out to Vin, lending as much support as he could to the power armour clad soldier. “We’re getting too old for this,” Mac said ruefully, “And what do you think that asshole meant by next tide? When is that anyway… “ Mac tailed off as they reached the doctor.

"You're not even thirty yet, man," Vin chortled.

The Castle medic relocated Vin's hip and applied another Stimpak, warning him off active duty for a week. Shaun helped his Dad (minus the power armour) into the decorated Vertibird, Mac and his Gramps following. 

Despite the Mirelurk Master's threat, the Lurkers up and down the coast seemed to be no more, according to the reports flooding in. Maxson put out a watch order for this new maritime breed of raider and the Sentinel-General increased the shoreward watch.

The four men arrived back in Sanctuary, sore, tired and hungry. They went to pick up 'little Grogmac' from Red Rocket and were treated to a grilled feast from Diesel Dan. 

"Dad, I have Issue six with me. Can we read it, here please? Uncle Dan can be the Martian Emperor!"

“Sure, of course you can. But listen guys, I don’t want to spoil the party but I’m not feeling great. I think I might head back home and have an early night.” All turned to look at Mac with concerned eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m fine, I’ll see you all later.” He kissed Duncan goodbye, then gave his husband a kiss, before setting off back to Sanctuary Hills. Mac had slightly underplayed his condition and as he walked up the road he felt worse by the second, thankful to be able to stumble into the family homestead and sink into bed.


	13. Lucked Out 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A life in danger, a risky solution.

ISSUE 7 - 'Fatherless Cur!'

In the early hours of the morning, Vincent was woken by Mac's tossing and turning. The younger man was feverish, mumbling incoherencies. Vin jumped out of bed and ran to get a clean dishrag, dousing it in cold, boiled water. 

Placing it on Mac's avoidant forehead, he tried to wake him.

"Shhh, Mac, I'm here, wake up hero, c'mon. You're burnin' up." It was just after three a.m. He didn't want to wake Duncan but when Mac started convulsing, he banged on the floor. Shaun, being a synth, didn't sleep but would be deep in meditation in his basement room. He banged again.

A few seconds later, Shaun appeared. 

"What's wrong, Dad…Pa?" Shaun asked softly, also aware of his still sleeping brother. "What's wrong with with Pa?" 

Vin was trying to keep Mac from hurting himself as he thrashed. "Get Curie, NOW!" he whispered.

Everywhere Mac looked there were fish, thrashing around, piled high, one on top of the other. He tried to walk, but he was walking on the fish, and slipping, sliding, falling down into the mass of writhing scales, fins and gaping mouths. He felt as if he was starving for oxygen like the fish, and putting his hand to his neck felt gills, flapping and flailing uselessly. An involuntary scream, that he couldn’t form, was there anyone around to hear him anyway? His hands pushed against the mass of silken scaled bodies, trying to get upright again, but the more he struggled, the more he was being pulled under. Half his body was submerged now, his legs feeling crushed and constricted and powerless to propel him away from the danger. “Vin..” he tried to yell again, “Vin.” Looking up he saw a huge metal claws suspended above him, they started to open, and as they did thousands upon thousands more fish spewed forth from them. “Vin,” Mac tried to call again, weakly, “Vin…”

Vincent noticed that the small cut on Mac's neck from the Lurker's barbed chain had turned a dark and menacing colour and was seeping pinkish fluid, when R.J.'s convulsions briefly stopped.

He held his dearest companion in strong arms that now felt weak and tremulous. Mac jerked again, utterly unconscious and drooling now. Vin heard footsteps through his shock-muffled ears.

"Sentinel, Sir, let me see 'im. No, sir, you 'ave to let go. Shaun darling, help me lay 'im flat. Zat's it. Vincent…"

"Dad, get outta Curie's way! Pa? Doc's here, you're gonna be okay Pa..*please*," Shaun added in a small voice.

Curie ran quick checks, methodical and gentle. "We need to get 'im to the clinic, now."

Vin easily picked up MacCready's now flaccid form and, heedless of his recently injured hip and having no shoes, rushed down the street. A figure detached itself from the shadows, throwing a glowing cigarette butt to the floor and followed Vin.

Curie ran ahead, shouting directions to the night nurses. She showed Vin to an empty bed where he carefully laid his love down and staggered backwards into a chair. The medics buzzed around Mac, inserting needles and tubes and strapping him down. Proctor Amélie Curie hurriedly took blood samples off to the analyzer.

Vin heard a knock at the door. He turned to see Ricky. "What's wrong with the kid?"

Vincent turned a worried face to him. "That…that cut on his neck from the Lurker. Must've been poisoned…he had a fit, Ricky. Nasty fever. I ..I don't know how to help him…" 

"Y'already did whatcha could, cat, bringin' him here." Ricky peered over at his sleeping relative. "That cut….I seen discoloration like that before. Mirelurk riders…hang on. Lemme talk to Curie." 

In the laboratory, Curie was muttering. "Mirelurk venom, carrier oil…something missing…"

Ricky Gee cleared his throat. " 'Scuse me, doc, I recognise that nasty colour on MacCready's wound. Not somethin' you'd get in this region…"

"Oui? Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Curie replied, then remembered to translate: "Pardon, what is it?"

"Ultracite poisoning." He briefly outlined the nature of the mutated ore and his experience of its' effects. The synthetic scientist suddenly exclaimed and asked Ricky for his help.

In the clinic, Vin held his husband's hand. Shaun had wrapped a bathrobe around his father's shoulders and gone home to look after Duncan. A nurse cleaned Mac's small but angry looking wound again. His breathing, though assisted, was shallow and the fever still raged, though meds had calmed the convulsions.

"Hold on, hero. Fight this. I'm right by your side, GrogMac…" what he'd intended as a laugh came out as a sob.

Mac gained consciousness for a few brief seconds, still panicking and fearful, “Please Vin, the fish, stop them.. “

"Don't worry, love, the fish're fried. Just..hang in there."

Curie entered the room, holding a syringe on a tray. "Sentinel… dear Monsieur Vincent. Do not be discouraged. I 'ave ascertained the nature of the poison and synthesised a cure."

"Well, Proctor, what are you waiting for, " snapped Vincent, sounding disturbingly like the Arthur Maxson he'd met all those years ago.

Curie took a deep breath. "There is a…consideration. I need consent of the next of kin." Curie looked awkward, not knowing how to tell her friend. 

Ricky picked up on her hesitation. "Look Vincent, only way we're gonna save the man's life is to get this antidote in him but it contains…well. Some o' what's in me."

"What the hell are you saying, Gee? Is he gonna turn ghoul?"

"Non, no Vincent. Monsieur Gee 'ere, he has some…unique mutations."

"Yeah, old age has taken the edge off some but Mac might end up…uh…inheritin'."

"Downside?" Vin was looking desperate.

"Well, I got damn hungry an' thirsty fer a while, felt real weak, couldn't take as many hits before goin' down….but that alleviated somewhat, eventually. Upsides: eyes like an eagle, started movin' faster an got real athletic overnight."

"We cannot say if Monsieur MacCready will be affected in ze same way but…" Curie took care to pronounce the words clearly, "the poison _will_ be neutralised."

Vincent searched his husband's face. He wasn't sure if Mac had heard them or even if he was awake. "What do I do, Mac?"

Mac was in no state to respond, let alone make a life changing decision. He was still in his own private hell of hallucinations, mumbling incoherently.

"We can't wait, Vincent," Curie said softly. "Do I 'ave your consent?"

Vin looked up at the old ghoul for support. Ricky blinked slowly and nodded once. "You have consent, Proctor," the Sentinel-General said.

The cure was administered. The sight of the huge needle made Vin shudder. It also brought back memories of sitting in what they now referred to as the 'cold turkey' chair, a jokey name for the hideous apparatus in Vault 95 and the huge needles that had penetrated Vin's neck and back. He felt slightly faint.

Ricky put a supportive arm around Vincent's broad shoulders. "Our boy'll be fine."

Half an hour later, MacCready stabilised and regained consciousness. The first thing he saw was Vincent, slumped over and asleep on his one good leg, holding Mac's slim hand in his long-fingered yet chunky one.

“What? What’s going on? Why am I here?” Mac blinked in the bright clinical light. “What’s with the long faces, Gramps you look like someone died. Oh God! Did they? Duncan, Shaun, are they ok?” he started to look around for his sons.

"Hmmm? Mac!" Vin sat up suddenly, plucking the oxygen mask off his mouth briefly to kiss him, then quickly replacing it as Curie came around the corner. "The boys are fine. Just fine. That _fucking_ fish-rider poisoned you, Mac. We had to…"

"Ah, _bon matin_ , R.J.!" she said brightly. " 'Ow are you feeling?

Mac felt as if his skull was breaking in two, so bad was his headache. “Umm, not the best, but nothing that a bit of fresh air won’t fix.” Mac was not the most patient of patients and was apt to underplay his symptoms to escape from the clinic quicker. "A drink and some food wouldn't go amiss though," his stomach was growling, and his throat felt dry and gritty.

"Your stats are picking up..my! Very good. You are not getting out of this bed until this evening, though."

Vin smirked at the look on Mac's face. "It's okay, doc, I'm holdin' his foot hostage back at the house, anyway. Just keep any crutches outta his reach."

“Ah c’mon Vin, don’t mock the afflicted. I’m fine, I must be or I wouldn’t have such an appetite on me now!”, Mac spotted a beaker of water on the bedside table. He grabbed the beaker, hoping it wasn’t some sort of laxative or worse, and downed it in one.

Ricky drew up a chair, turned it backwards and sat down. "What's the story, mornin' glory?" He smiled warmly but his face quickly became serious. "Listen, we got somethin' ta tell ya so maintain the anti-frantic, you dig? 

Vincent glanced at Ricky who passed the proverbial baton. "He means, stay calm."

“So I guess I’m about to hear some bad news then?” Mac sighed, “I mean no one says that when they’re about to deliver _good_ news do they? Go on then, hit me, I’m ready.”

"That poison, well it had mirelurk acid in it but something else too. This substance that's particular to Appalachia… ultracite. It's what triggered your fits and I'm guessin', from your mutterin's and hallucinations…

“It seemed so real… it still does,” Mac shivered involuntarily recalling his visions. “It’s not going to keep happening is it?”

Vin took a deep, steadying breath, "No, Curie said that was the fever but…the cure has side affects."

“Side affects?” Mac eyed Vin suspiciously. “What kind of side affects?”

"Only source o' trace-ultracite is here," Ricky said, tapping his own chest. Your cure, it got my blood in it. That means you may well have inherited my…my mutations. I'm so sorry, son. It was the only way to beat the poison.

“Oh great. So now I’m gonna be a ghoul? And there was me thinking losing my foot was a bummer.” Mac looked at Ricky, feeling he was being somewhat ungrateful, but unable to contain his disappointment. “I’m sorry Gramps, it just came out.” Mac would like to add he didn’t mean it, but in truth he could think of nothing worse than becoming ghoulified.

Vin squeezed his husband's hand. "No, no handsome, we're not talking ghoulification here. That's down to rads, not this ultracite stuff. You saw how quick Lucky was loadin'? How accurate his shots were? I mean, your the best but he beat you to those spouts, I saw."

Curie, lingering at the far wall added, "We 'ave no way of knowing which, if any, of Monsieur Gee's deoxyribonucleic-acid alterations 'ave bonded with your own." 

Seeing Mac's bewildered expression, Ricky explained. "See, after I got hit hard with a Scorchbeast's green smoke, I mutated. Got a real hunger an' thirst after that but I also got faster. I could run like a top athlete, reload in record time. Then I fought a big mamma S.B….that was the Brotherhood's code for 'em, Sierra Bravo's…an' I mutated again. 

Felt real weak fer a week but I could see a fly on a house wall down the street. To be honest with ya, son, if I didn't have them eagle eyes, the cataracts I got tryin' ta invade my peepers woulda made me blind three years ago. 

Picked up a third one, too, before I left the mountains. I get hurt bad, I start healin' up quicker - aside from the whole 'rads-heal-ghouls' thing. Hit harder, too. Downside, I can't take so much beatin' afore I drop. So…son. You might gey afflicted with those or others beside; Static, he racked up so many…" Ricky sighed and hung his head briefly. "Truth is, we don't know what we done to you 'cept save your life."

Vin was looking very serious, staring at the matching tattoo on Mac's forearm and rubbing it with his thumb.

MacCready sighed, “Well, sounds like there was no choice anyway. I’m grateful to everyone for keeping me alive, and if there are a few side effects I’ll just have to get used to ‘em.”

"We shall monitor you, Paladin-Major," Curie stated rather officially, letting Mac know that Elder Maxson would certainly want to be informed which caused Vin to turn, frowning and reply,

"He doesn't need to know. At least, not until we see how this pans out." Vincent had continued to work on the Brotherhood Elder's ingrained prejudices. Though Maxson had accepted ghouls in the settlements and Minutemen ranks, which were under the Sentinel-General's discretion anyway, he had not yet welcomed ghouls within Brotherhood ranks, nor was he likely to. How he'd feel about his Paladin having mutated would warrant careful diplomacy on Vin's part. 

That evening, MacCready was allowed home, under Vincent's watchful eye. He had second helpings of everything and drank twice as much...with the expected physical consequences. Mac emerged from the outhouse for the second time to find Vin hovering outside the door.

“Oh, sorry Vin, might want to give it five. Didn’t realise you were waiting, or I’d have been quicker.” Mac stammered as he emerged from the outhouse.

"Oh, no, I don't need to sh..I mean..are you feelin' alright? Your…ah…plumbin' okay?" Vin was very aware of Shaun trying to corral Duncan's questions in the living room and of MacCready's every pain-filled sigh. He seemed fragile and tired, despite the front he was attempting to put on.

“Yeah, I’m fine, at least I think I am. Everything is in working order as far as _that’s_ concerned, it’s just working overtime, that’s all. I just feel exhausted and annoyed at everything. But that’s normal, right? A few nights of sleep and I’ll be back to normal.” Mac was keen to downplay Vin’s concern. As long as he was at home with his family, he’d be fine.

Ricky came over that evening and Duncan met him at the door, issue seven rolled up in his hand.

“Dunc!” Mac’s voice rang out stridently, “Don’t hold the comic like that! How many times have I told you?”   
Duncan was torn between outrage at the accusation of comic mishandling and relief that his dad seemed to be getting back to normal. The relief won out, and Duncan sheepishly mumbled “Sorry Dad,” as he carefully smoothed the comic back into pristine condition.

"Hey, son. I brought beers," Ricky said. "Hey Grognak, go get some snacks while I'm jawin' with your Dad."

Duncan nodded eagerly, thrilled at the excuse to raid the pantry for Fancy Lads.

When he was out of earshot and with Vin hovering nearby, he asked,

"Headache? Light botherin' ya? Feelin' starved still? Weak as a kitten?"

Mac shrugged, affecting a nonchalance he didn’t feel, “Meh, little bit of everything off that list, but mainly the weakness. How long until it passes Gramps? I really want to go back to normal.”

"Well, I was chattin' to Doc Fuzzyduck Français over there an', well, there's somethin' goin' in your favour. See, I was born pre-war, fed up nice an' fat all protected in a vault growin' up whereas your skinny ass," Ricky winked and gave Mac an elbow nudge, "didn't get proper nutrition but came out strong anyways. On top o' that, you were exposed to low levels o' radiation an goodness knows what else. She wants to prod an' poke ya in the mornin' but looks like you might get over it quicker'n I did."

“And how long did you take, Gramps?” Mac wanted concrete figures that he could work with, everything was so vague. Maybe Curie would be able to give him some more information tomorrow, but he suspected all advice would be couched in medical disclaimers and conditional on his total and utter surrender to a regime he wouldn’t like.

"Oh, less'n a week but that don't help when you've a homestead an' loved ones to defend. Now, Bobbie Jo you just sit yourself down."

Just then, Duncan returned, plates laden beautifully with Fancy Lads, Funnel Cake

Vincent put a hand on his youngest son's shoulder. "Dad needs a rest tonight, MacDunc. Who's gonna do the Princess voice then, buddy?"

Mac smiled, the only good thing about his ailments, he was off the hook as far as acting out the Princess voices went.

“Aww you were so good at it too, Dad,” Duncan looked around the room for a volunteer, and settled upon Shaun as his victim. “Say, Shaun, will you do it, please?”

Shaun sighed, and affected reluctance, and was met by a chorus from all in the room asking him to take one for the team, so he trilled a few phrases to get in character. “Ok then Dunc, looks like you’ve got your Princess.”

Shaun and Ricky arranged themselves together on the couch, leaving a gap for Vin, with Duncan, holding out the comic, sat on the floor in front.

Vincent drew out a chair opposite for MacCready and placed the sleeping radio in front of him just for show, then put on his best presenter's voice, fighting back the memory of the deep tones of the television news presenter on his last morning with Nora.

"You've tuned in to Family Time radio, this just in…uh..

Mac looked at Vin, he was staring into space, with a wistful expression, and his narrative had petered out. “Everything ok, Vin?” he asked gently.

"Hmm? Sorry. Alright, 'In tonight's episode of Hubris Comic's epic sword and sorcery saga, 'Grognak the Barbarian!' : Will our brave hero discover which opposing king is his sire? Or will the truth be even more shocking? Find out now in episode seven…. 'Fatherless Cur!'

The pretend radio play was a hit. Now everyone had had practice in play acting, even Duncan managed to keep his giggles until the end. MacCready gave them raucous applause and tried to stand, but his knees gave way and he sank back into the chair at the same time Ricky's laughter turned into a coughing fit. He blamed it on beer going down the wrong way, spluttered goodnight and excused himself.

Vincent, casting concerned glances between Mac and Ricky, sent Duncan off to bed. He got up, wincing at his sore hip and fetched two beers from the cooler. He helped Mac up from the chair to sit next to him on the red couch. When they heard the telltale silence indicating that Dunc was already asleep, Vincent spoke:

"Alright, you can drop the façade, Mac. I know what you told Ricky but you can barely stand and you wince every time there's a light in your face. Are the headaches really gone 'cause I see that crease in your brow is still there?"

Mac felt more comfortable divulging his problems now Duncan had gone to bed. “Ok Vin, you got me, it still hurts like f.. heck, I feel hungry and thirsty no matter how much I eat and drink, and I can’t bear to even peek out the window as it hurts my eyes. And yes, you detected correctly I still have a cracking headache.” He sighed and sank back into the comfort the sofa and held Vin’s hand in his. “But at least I’m still alive, thanks to you and Gramps.”

"No detecting necessary, love. I know my..w husband. Heh. I'm still not quite used to that, you know?" Vin scratched his stubbled, dimpled chin self-consciously. "I just wanna take care of you."

“And you are, my love, you are,” Mac’s voice cracked as he leaned against Vin. “I’ll just have to try and be patient. Not my strong suite, but with your help, I’ll get there.”

They finished their beers and before Mac could protest, Vincent scooped him up off the sofa and carried him to the bedroom. He lay Mac gently on the bed, helped him undress down to his underwear and with care, removed his prosthetic and socks.

Mac still felt out of his element being treated in such a way, but he buried his pride and submitted to Vin’s ministrations gratefully. “Thank you,” he breathed as he snuggled under the covers.

Vin fetched a moist flannel, toothpaste, water and a bowl to spit into so that MacCready could do his ablutions, went into the bathroom to do his own and settled carefully beside him, wrapping his beloved companion in his arms.

It was only once the lights were out and he was in the embrace of the darkness as well as his husband that Mac could utter his next words, “Goodnight Vin, you’ve done so much for me, please don’t leave me again. Not for a very, very long time anyway.…

I need you.”


	14. Lucked Out 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things always look better in the morning and love is in the air. The trouble is, nothing is ever simple in the Hudson-MacCready household.  
> Shameless fluff.

ISSUE 8 - 'Lost in the Snows of Lust'

MacCready opened his eyes. The light was bright but no longer sent sharp pains into his head. His limbs no longer felt like powerless noodles and although he was hungry, it was only the pangs of one who had overslept. He glanced up at the red Nukaworld clock. Just about eleven a.m.

He could hear Vin shuffling about, trying to be quiet as he did housework, with the occassional muffled grunt telling Mac that it hadn't been such a clever idea of him to strain his recent hip injury by carrying him to the bedroom last night.

He decided to alert his husband to his awakened state and maybe cadge some breakfast in bed out of him.

To this end, he coughed, gently and politely at first. Mac then sat back in the bed against the pillows piled against the headboard and listened for recognition, heard none so coughed loudly and belligerently. He heard Vin’s activities come to an abrupt halt. Ah, that was it, he’d got his attention now. “Vin… “ he heard Vin’s affirmative grunt, “Is that breakfast I hear you making?”

"Hey, mornin' sleepyhead. Breakfast's finished." Vin poked his head round the door showing a cheeky grin. He would never leave Mac hungry. You wouldn't like Mac when he was hungry. "I daren't wake you, looked like you needed to catch those zees. How're you feeling?" Vin crooned, looking less worried than he had the day before.

"Where're the boys?" Mac asked, noticing the quiet.

"Jun popped over earlier. He invited Ricky to go spend some time with Bobbie and thought Duncan might want to join them, so I said fine. They're staying until dinner."

“That’s great, I can get some more rest, though I must admit I’m feeling a whole lot better today. Just really, really hungry…” Mac knew that Vin would take the hint.

Vincent brought a tray loaded with warmed Pork 'n' Beans, fried Cram and Deathclaw egg omelette with a slice of melon on the side, plus a hot cup of strong, black coffee. He took his own sweet, white coffee from the tray and sipped.

“Thanks Vin, that looks great,” Mac said as he eyed the tray, before proceeding to wolf down every morsel of the breakfast, followed by downing his cup of coffee in one swift gulp. “Yup, it was great, thanks again.”

Vincent moved the empty tray away and sat on the side of the bed. "There's… no real reason to get up just yet. Duncan's cared for, Shaun's at Red Rocket helping Dan fix about half a dozen suits that came from the Castle, armory boys're overloaded after…well." Vin stroked a hand down his moustache. "So I ain't goin' anywhere, handsome."

“Maybe you should go help Shaun and Dan? I feel a bit selfish keeping you all to myself when all I’m going to do is sleep and feel sorry for myself.” Mac was feeling a little guilty, almost as if he was manipulating Vin with his illness, and yet, he couldn’t deny that was enjoying Vin’s undivided attention.

Vincent looked intently into MacCready's eyes, the larger man's green eyes suddenly welling up with quiet tears. "I thought I was gonna lose you," he whispered in a shaky voice, his right hand trembling where it lay on Mac's own. The younger man could feel the jitters in Vin's right leg too, vibrating through the mattress. This was not a good sign. His big bear of a husband was terrified. Mac thought back to the previous day where Vin had mentally gone AWOL for a moment whilst pretending to be a radio presenter. His trauma was resurfacing.

Mac patted the mattress next to him, and Vin moved closer and lay down next to his husband. Mac wrapped his arms around Vin, “It’s ok, don’t worry Vin, I’m fine, we’re both gonna be fine.” The couple lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms. Mac didn’t know what else he could do to help Vin, given his own weakened (though improving) condition.

Vin allowed himself to be held, kissing the finely haired forearm that was now next to his face and finally let out his emotions. "Old memories just keep rising to the surface every time you get badly hurt, Mac. Everyone I ever lost: Pop, Vonnie, our dog Stumpy…even my bitch of a mother." Vincent's tears flowed unchecked, now. "Nora..and our baby Shaun. I never got to chase that toddler round the house, tell him bed time stories, take him to his first day of school, his first baseball game…oh Mac, I love our Shaun…and Duncan. I just…I lost so much…an' I couldn't bear to lose my family all over again. If I lost you, I don't think I could hold it together for our boys." Vincent paused, shaking, MacCready at a loss for words. "I should be taking care of you right now… I'm just not as strong as you, Mac."

“You are taking care of me! And as for me being strong… nope. I fell apart after.. after Lucy. You’ve been through so much Vin, you’re allowed to be sad sometimes. In fact, I’d say it was necessary. Ya know, supressed emotions and all that? Just because you lost other people doesn’t mean you’re going to lose me.” Mac was flailing somewhat, being as unaccustomed as Vin to showing his emotional side. He normally kept things hidden under a thick veneer of jocularity and sarcasm.

Vincent's sobs calmed, his breathing steadied and he looked up into MacCready's face. "Do you know how much I love you?" he asked, seriously.

“Is that one of those rhetorical questions?” Mac asked, hoping to at least make Vin smile.

"No, I really need to know if you understand just how much you mean…you're my world, Mac." He sighed. "No-one could ever replace Nora..but you're my brave new world." Vincent looked down, afraid of his own vulnerability.

“I do understand, I really do,” Mac showed Vin his tattoo, with their wedding date proudly to the fore, and stroked Vin’s matching tattoo. “We’ve both loved before, and we’ve both lost that love. We’ve got our second chances, I don’t think Lucy or Nora would have wanted us to waste those chances being sad, or scared.”

MacCready's husband, brought to him through such exceptional circumstances, smiled and held him tenderly, placing the most wonderful kiss onto his lips. They spent a while together in silence, just holding each other lovingly and sprinkling kisses and caresses onto each other.

* * *   
Eventually, it occurred to Vincent that he'd better take his husband to see Proctor Curie before she got impatient. He could gauge her mood at Sanctuary by how official her language became. Usually, during her clinic days here she was very relaxed around Vincent as she very much enjoyed his company. She also enjoyed chatting to Codsworth, who was, despite his robotic frame, ever developing a deep and complex personality. Curie found this fascinating as she, herself had once been housed in a similar frame. Codsworth, though, had no desire to be transferred into a synthetic body as a humanoid frame had no jet with which to reheat the tea kettle. There had been many a drunken joke about his various arguments in The Two Flags.

Vin opened the clinic door for MacCready and the irradiation arch hissed softly as they passed through.

The waiting room was small and occupied by only two other people. Lu Abernathy beamed and waved, whilst Preston stood to shake Vincent and MacCready's hands.

"Good to see you General, Major." 

"We're all off-duty, Preston, relax!" Vin laughed. 

"Sorry, Vincent. I've been thinking about what went down at the Castle…"

Lu butted in, "He's been worrying about not being there. I told him it was just mornin' sickness and I could handle it but he wouldn't budge, so he's been a pain in our backsides instead! We won't need any lumber chopping for two years, though!"

Vin commiserated. He knew what Preston was like when kept from his Minuteman duties.

Preston huffed an embarrassed laugh but asked after their health. 

“I’m fine, or at least getting better, thanks Preston,” said MacCready, “But Vin, ah well, you know our dear Sentinel-General, looks after everybody except himself.” Mac hoped that the pester power of himself and Preston combined would encourage Vin to at least get his hip looked at, and more importantly, ensure compliance with any medical advice given.

Vin frowned. "Alright, alright, I pulled the damn hip again. Caught a missile on my thigh," he explained to Preston.

They were admitted to Curie's office where she drew a little blood and ran a few quick tests, after having asked MacCready many specific questions about his symptoms.

She spent a tense few minutes silently reading her monitor in front of them without any giveaway expressions, until Mac just had to say something.

“Well Doc, what’s the verdict, am I gonna make it or not?” Mac leant forward in his chair, his face half amused and half concerned. He was feeling much better and was only expecting to hear good news.

"The bottom line, Monsieur MacCready-Hudson, is that your body accepted the mutations into your DNA because your cells _already_ carried the degenerate derivative of the original mutation.…because you are descended from the original patient. That is why, perhaps, you 'ave always been such a precise sniper. Fascinating, _non?_

MacCready still looked a little puzzled so Vin tried an analogy. "So, you had most of the puzzle pieces already, handed down through Ricky's bloodline. He had a new copy of the puzzle and gave you the missing bits, right Curie? So he's okay?"

"Oui, exactement!" she confirmed. Excitement always threw her back to using her motherboard tongue. "There may be minor residual weakness and a slightly larger appetite but, judging from ze indepth history Monsieur Gee was able to provide, the ultimate sensory, motor and adrenal improvements far outweigh the necessary biological cost. It is an ingenious biochemical modification…though…what those at Modus did.. _l'histoire, c'est immoral…_...

Curie trailed off.

“So in other words I live to fight another day. Or, as I originally said, I’m fine. Now, enough about me, what about Vin, will you examine him please Curie?”

Vincent looked at him in disbelief, briefly. Mac had a way of boiling matters right down and then moving on. He huffed and turned to Curie.  
"I..ah…lifted a heavy weight when the doc told me not to an' now my hip's not so hep,' he quipped.

The medical scientist told him to stand, to move in certain ways that made him exclaim then jabbed a long-needled stimpak into his buttock.

"All done. No weightlifting for a week, you…meatloaf!" Curie wasn't very good at lighthearted ribbing but at least she tried.

Coming out of the clinic, they saw Shaun walking down the road hand in hand and chatting with a dark-haired figure dressed in mechanics coveralls. 

Vin felt a little mischievous after having had a weight of worry lifted. "Shh! Let's follow them," he whispered to Mac. 

“Ahw c’mon now, give the poor lad some privacy, and anyway shouldn’t you be resting?” Mac raised an eyebrow in Vin’s direction. Vin just put a finger to his lips, smirked and padded onward.

The two stealthy soldiers got right up behind the pair at the bar. Vin tapped his son on the shoulder, making Shaun jump and jostle some beer out of the bottle he was holding. The other person giggled.

"Kasumi!" Vin exclaimed. "This is a surprise, I thought you were stationed at Boston Airport Labs?

Kasumi Nakano, now working as a human-synth relations officer between the Brotherhood and the Minutemen, gave her commanding officers a salute.

"At ease, Specialist," Vin said. He then turned a quizzical eye to his son. "Something you wanna tell me, Shaun?"

"Dad, Pa…um, Kasumi and I are dating!"

Kasumi gave a happy little smile to Shaun's parents that held just a hint of 'uh-oh, I hope I'm not in trouble'.

Vincent's eyebrows shot up, then he gave a huge sigh. "Barkeep, bottle o' whiskey an' four glasses, please?"

"What about giving them some privacy?" Mac repeated, quietly.

"We'll sit," Vin shot back, in a tone of voice that Mac knew not to argue with.

They settled at a private booth. Vincent poured a shot for each of them and the four clinked glasses. "Cheers," said Vincent and Shaun, "Bottoms up!" exclaimed Mac, "Kampai!" Kasumi added. She looked a little bemused but drank the shot, gasped and smiled. Shaun coughed. Vin and Mac just chuckled. 

'Was that your first?" Shaun and Kasumi asked each other simultaneously.

“Jinx!” yelled Mac, followed by Shaun glaring at him and Kasumi looking at him quizzically. “What? I had to say it seeing as neither of you guys did. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of jinx. Even at Little Lamplight we had jinx. C’mon Vin, back me up on this!”

"Yeah, yeah, Vonnie an' I used to do that too."

Vin laced his fingers together, elbows on the table, the muscles in his jaw working away. Shaun didn't catch on but MacCready could always tell when Vin had switched to professional, military officer mode. He was glancing between the two of them as if unsure who to talk to. Momentarily, he stood.

"Shaun, a word?"

His son obeyed and followed his father out of the bar. They walked out, behind the building, down toward the river.

Meanwhile, MacCready was left, awkwardly, with the young woman he hardly knew. He was aware that her father was good friends with Valentine and that the two detectives had brought her back from Far Harbor. He knew that she worked helping humans and synths get along but that was about it.

She smiled awkwardly at him and he knew he had to make conversation, at least until Vin and Shaun got back.

“Soooo, Kasumi, how’s the, umm, power armour repair stuff going?” Mac hoped that this gambit would draw the girl out of her shell.

"Oh, um…I have no idea. Not my department. _あの…_ Do I call you Paladin-Major or Mr. MacCready-Hudson or..um..?" Kasumi swivelled her shotglass on the table nervously.

“We’re in a bar, and I’m on sick leave. Just call me Mac, please! You’re a friend of Shaun’s aren’t you? If you come visit the house it could get a bit silly if you’re having to salute every time I walk in the room! So, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing with Shaun if not the power armor?” Mac wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped the mark, but he was curious and she could always fob him off if she didn’t want to tell him.

"Oh, well, we've seen each other a few times on the Prydwen or at the old airport lounge. Have you been there recently? Part of it is a factory and part of it is a laboratory! Some of the lab workers are Genthrees…we don't like use the term 'Synth' any more, too many negative connotations. Um…oh! I just realised, the Sen…I mean, Vincent.. might not have told you about my background. Did he? It _is_ kind of hush-hush but you're Shaun's Pa and all…you know, I could really go for a Nuka.   
The whisky was nice, I mean, kapow! but nice, y'know but I'm still thirsty and…I…I'm babbling, aren't I?" Kasumi drew in an overdue breath and smiled shyly.

“No, he didn’t tell me, and don’t worry Kasumi, I’m not gonna interrogate you. I’ll get you a Nuka now,” Mac made his way to the bar, and ordered two Nuka Colas, one for Kasumi and one for himself, and took them back to the table. “There you go, enjoy."

"Thanks, Pala..um..Mac." Kasumi glugged her cola, then said, "Well, basically, I have a…um…history that has led to a job as liason officer between Genthrees and Humans. The Sentinel-General himself put me up for the post. I'm kind of in that gray area, neither Brotherhood nor Minuteman. My official title is 'Specialist Liason Officer'. Mom an' Dad are so proud!" 

"Hey, son, miss. Mind if I join ya?" Ricky Gee smiled charmingly at the pair of them.

Mac was glad to welcome Ricky to the table and introduced Kasumi to him. “Vin has gone for a chat with Shaun, he should be back real soon.” Mac hoped so anyway. Mac turned to Kasumi, and said quietly, “So, did you meet Elder Maxson yet? Just between us that guy annoys the hell outta me, but don’t quote me on that.”

"Nice to meet you Mr. Gee," Kasumi said brightly. She turned to MacCready. "I did. The Sentinel-General, Proctor Cade, Proctor Ingram and I had a meeting with him. He's a very serious man. Wonder if he knows how to smile?"

"That the BoS Boss-man? I heard a holo from his Gramps, long time ago. Seemed like a decent sort. Didn't wanna use nukes no more. Then again, neither did I…" Ricky trailed off, looking at the empty table in front of him.

“Whatya having Gramps?” Mac sensed it was time for another visit to the bar. “And you Kasumi, another Nuka is it?” Kasumi nodded and Ricky asked for a beer.

Mac was served swiftly as the bar was almost empty. He plonked the drinks down on the table and resumed the conversation. “So, Kasumi are you and Shaun, erm _dating_?” It was a pretty close contest as to who was blushing the reddest, Kasumi or Mac.

Kasumi smiled, showing sweet dimples. "We are, actually…um..have been for a few weeks now. Not that we see much of each other. Shaun is always off on some Proctor training mission for Quinlan and I have a _lot_ of appointments, helping Genthrees come forward and get basic checkovers. I'm no medic," she laughed nervously, "I'm a tinkerer, really, so part of what I do is keep lab equipment functioning. But I know what its like to believe you're a…well. A Genthree. I know their society, such as it is. So, here I am. Blabbering on again."

“That’s great, Shaun’s a great boy, but erm,” MacCready didn’t know how to put what he was thinking delicately, so he blurted it out, “Say, erm, aren’t you worried what might happen in a few years’ time, ya know, with him staying young looking and err.. yeah” Now Mac was the one blabbering.

"It doesn't matter what two people look like when they're in love, does it? I mean, there's the Zwickys of Diamond City, Brigadier-General Hancock and…well, several humans and…um.."  
Kasumi faded out.

"You know, kitten," joined Ricky, "my wife stayed with me when I was turned inta this raisin. She stayed beautiful even when she went gray…some folks had a problem but we were in love, so you follow yer heart, darlin'."

“Word of advice though, just watch out for Maxson, he might have accepted synths _in theory_ but whether he’d approve of a synth and human relationship is questionable. So, best not to let him know.” Mac felt awful meddling in Shaun’s affairs like this but he’d witnessed at first hand Maxson’s prejudices and it wasn’t pretty.

* * *  
Shaun turned to his Dad who was still walking, with still the hint of a limp.

"Are we going on a hike, in the middle of drinking…sir?"

Vin stopped, hands behind his ramrod-straight back. "This is far enough. Shaun, _what are you **thinking**?_ Kasumi?"

Shaun, taken aback, simply said, "Thinking? Try 'feeling', Dad. I love her!"

Vin sighed heavily and relaxed his stance. "Son…I'm happy for you but…Kasumi. It brings complications, for both of you."

"What, because she's human and I'm a synth? **Because I'm a fucking Synth?** Shaun's fair-skinned face reddened."

Vin's expression melted. "Son…that's only part of it."

"I knew it." If Shaun had respected his father less, he would have turned his back. Instead, he just glared.

Vincent softened his voice. "If the Brotherhood rank and file get wind of this, heck, even some Minutemen I know… it could be all it takes to start an avalanche that'll tear the Minutemen and Brotherhood apart. They have difficulty enough accepting that Genthrees are as human as us biologicals. Very few aside from top command know Curie is a Genthree. It was a _huge_ change to fundamental Brotherhood Protocol when we laid down the line for the two flags to join forces. You should know this! Just getting Ghouls and Genthrees accepted as equal Commonwealth citizens was a huge risk for us to take, let alone for Maxson to accept. He's still dealing with the fallout, weeding out the supremacist zealots that were hiding behind the badge. Shit, even getting them to budge on the policy of acceptable personal relations having to be between a man and a woman only, in order to stack the odds in favor of producing babies as if they were just human resources? Mac and I still get looks from some o' the Prydwen crew. So how d'you think they'd react to a Genthree and Human couple, huh?" Vin smoothed his neat horeshoe moustache with one hand and took a breath.

"Believe me, Shaun, I chip away at that prejudice _every_ day. If it were up to me I'd buy you two another whiskey an' a room for the night but it's just not that simple."

"Well, I'm not breaking up with her! We're in love!" Shaun cried.

"An' I'm not askin' you to." The Sentinel-General rubbed the bridge of his once-broken nose with his finger and thumb. "You're gonna have to keep it hush for now. Give us time to…pave the way."

Shaun's expression shifted from indignant anger to surprised acceptance. "So, no..uh…'back seat bingo' in public, then. No 'flippin' our lids' or 'bumpin' lips with the knockout?' in front of.. "

Vin couldn't help but laugh at his son's attempted greaser slang. "Cut the gas son, c'mere." Vin opened his arms and Shaun stepped into the hug. "She's a keeper," he whispered. "Just be very, very careful around the Brotherhood especially, as well as the Minutemen and…keep her safe?"

Shaun nodded solemly and he and Vincent walked back into the bar to find that Ricky had joined Mac and Kasumi.

Mac was profoundly grateful to see Vin and Shaun appear. “Welcome back, strangers, care for a drink?”. He adopted an air of fake bonhomie to disguise the discomfort he’d been feeling since his chat with Kasumi. He’d been hoping for a nice restful day with his husband while Duncan was with the Longs, but instead he’d found himself navigating the choppy waters of parenting a teenager.

"I'll take whiskey, make it a double. Shaun?"

"Better stick to the Nukas now Pa. Do they have Nuka Dark?"

Mac rolled his eyes, “Nope, trust me if they did I’d be ordering my third one right now.” After everyone else had requested their preferred drink he made yet another trip to the bar, returning moments later with a tray loaded with beverages.

Whilst everyone else was talking, Ricky surreptitiously took two purple Med-X syringes out and, under the table, stuck one into each of his knees. Only MacCready noticed.

Gee glanced up at the working clock on the wall. "Hey, sorry ta break up the party but the littlest MacHudson is due out of Marcy's hair about now, an' I promised we'd read issue eight after dinner."

Mac felt a little disappointed that what had promised to be a peaceful day spent with just Vin had turned into a day of socialising. Oh well, there was always tomorrow. “OK, we’ll swing by the Longs’ house on the way back home. Are you coming back with us for dinner Shaun, Kasumi?”

"Yeah, why don't you have dinner at ours, both of you?" Vin suggested, looking at both Ricky and Kasumi. 

Shaun's face lit up. "Great idea, Dad! Kas, he's _the_ best cook.

Kasumi smiled and gave a small bow, "Would you like us to bring anything, Detective..Sentinel..um…Mr. Hudson MacCready?"

"Confusin', ain't it? 'Vincent' is just fine when we're off duty, Kasumi. Come to think of it, we could use a few more tatoes. Stop by the garden an' help yourself."

Ricky laughed. "You're not alone with the embarrasment of titles, Vin. Let's see, Responder, Firebreather, Private, Initiate…" 

"You're Brotherhood?" Shaun asked, surprised?

"Ehhh…kinda. Only ta get my foot in a door, tell ya the truth. Oh…I'm also an official Mistress of Mystery! Though I prefer 'Mister'," the old ghoul chuckled, sparking a few coughs. "We'd better cut out. See you back at the house, son," Gee said.

A while later, Vin had made a large tureen of mixed meat and veg stew. He was walking toward it with intent to carry it to the table when MacCready caught his arm. "Nice _limp_ you got there," he said pointedly.

Vin relented. "Would you mind carrying the soup to the table for me, bun?" 

“Of course,” Mac flushed with pleasure at his husband’s use of his pet name. It had taken Vin a while to get comfortable with their relationship, especially in front of others, but now everything seemed so easy and natural.

Duncan was excitedly telling Shaun what he and Bobbie had been up to (making a new doghouse for Rocket, Dogmeat's long-legged pup). Vin settled himself into his chair at the dining table whilst Mac dished up. 

When almost everyone had finished eating, Shaun served coffee (and creamy brahmin milk for Duncan). Ricky had just finished telling everyone about how he had acquired the Eye of Ra, the Mistress of Mystery's brooch and given it to Sofia, when Duncan piped up: "Tell us how you turned into a ghoul, Gramps!"

“Maybe Gramps doesn’t want to talk about that Duncan, it’s kinda personal…” Mac didn’t want to totally quash his son but he had to learn that some topics weren’t necessarily for family entertainment.

Vin said, "Duncan!" in that way parents have of using just your name to tell you that what you just said was inappropriate and to say sorry now.

"No, no, it's cool. Alright kiddo, I'll clue you in. First off, me an' some other seventy-sixers went off to fight these giant bat monsters. Wherever they were became Radsville, partly 'cause one way ta lure 'em out o' the huge cracks in the earth , 'specially the queens, was to hit the place with nukes. Bad news. So these 'S.B.'s'…"

"Sons of Bit.." started Duncan but both parents cut him off by saying just his name again.

"You'll make me bust a gut, Duncan! No, Scorch Beasts. They breathed green irradiated smoke, too. So I got caught in a big fight an' my power armor kept me alive but kinda baked me at the same time. I came outta that suit red as a tato!"

Duncan's face was rapt. "Did it hurt?" 

"Yeah. Yes it did, sonny. Felt like I was takin' a fire bath."

“Eurgh, I can just imagine what that was like, what happened then?” Mac was as attentive as Duncan.

So first off, when I could bear to be awake an' movin' again, I noticed my beautiful cherry red hair left in my brush. I couldn't talk past a whisper and everythin' felt kinda muffled. Could only eat liquids for days. Took about two weeks but eventually I felt stronger. I was real sad about my hair, though. This here's a wig, betcha couldn't tell! Sofia got me a pissah one, huh? Colonial Coiffeur, one classy nest." He smoothed the side of his pompadour lovingly.

"One day, the twins - they were real tiny rugrats still - they were havin' pumpkin soup so Sofia gave me a bowl, too. I was just about ta take a spoonful, when….plop!"

“Did you drop it Gramps?” Duncan asked, “I do that all the time with my soup...” Mac could attest to the veracity of that, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t what Ricky meant at all.

Ricky chuckled. "I brought up the spoon and there, nestlin' in the bowl of it like a little chick, was my nose."

“Eurgh, yuck!” Duncan instinctively touched the tip of his own nose, just to make sure it was still there. “Did it hurt Gramps?”   
MacCready felt nausea rising in his stomach at the image, he was still in a weakened state from his own ailments. He remained stoic though, not wanting to hurt Ricky’s feelings.

Vin grimaced, Kasumi looked sick and Shaun shouted "Gross _out_!"

Ricky chortled. "Oh, no, it had gone numb anyways. Never could stomach pumpkin soup again, though. Moral of the story, cats, is never fight monsters with nukes an' always take yer Rad-X!"

“Well, I’m glad we had dinner before that story, eh? I reckon it’s about time for Grognak to put in an appearance, what do you reckon, Dunc?” Mac asked, and Duncan nodded in eager agreement.

Vin started to clear away. "Shaun, you and Kasumi can share the basement tonight. Go on, unless you wanna read Grognak with us?

“Ahw, but come on Dad, the one night we have an actual real _girl_ to play the Princess? What could be more fun in that basement anyway?” Duncan was outraged.

MacCready smirked at Shaun, “Yeah, Shaun, what could be more fun than reading Grognak?” he turned to Duncan, “’Shaun's got important, boring, grown-up things to do and he might not have time for Grognak tonight.“

"Well Dunc, that's kinda up to Kasumi," Shaun explained, looking apologetically at his girlfriend.

"Princess? Well, I guess…if it's just one comic..yeah, I can be a Princess."

Shaun smiled warmly at her. "I'll sit in the audience with Pa, then."

The family settled in the front room once more, having agreed that pretending it was a radio play was the most fun. The 'audience', MacCready and Shaun this time round, settled into the armchair, Shaun perching on the arm.

Much of the romantic subtext of this issue was lost on Duncan but his parents kept 'looking at each other funny', as did Kasumi and Shaun.

When the story was finished and Vin's eldest and his new girlfriend had snuck away, 'Lucky' Ricky had returned to his barracks bed and Duncan was fast asleep, Vin took out the stub of a once expensive cigar and a preserved cigarette, lighting them both. He sat on the plush red sofa, reaching out to hand the glowing Grey Tortoise to MacCready.

"Hey, Cinnamon bun, take a load off," grinned Vin. He shifted a discarded sweater for Mac to sit down. "You know," he mused, drawing in the sweet tobacco smoke, "that's the first time in a long, long while that I've felt…" he struggled to capture his emotions in words, "..that I was in a normal, everyday family gatherin'. Really at home. Settled. Hadn't realised how much I needed that."

“You and me both, it’s been a great evening, Huggybear” Mac snuggled into his husband, feeling pleasantly tired and cosy. Vin smiled at hearing his nickname and held his Cinnamon bun close.


	15. Lucked Out 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan sneaks out to visit Ricky. Vin and Mac get intimate. Sanctuary gathers; good friends and gentle people enjoy food and music together.

ISSUE 9 - 'In the Lair of the Virgin Eater'

Duncan MacCready-Hudson awoke. He'd been dreaming of Grognak and a Princess's scream had jolted him back into the twenty third century. He heard a woman's voice again from the basement bedroom. _Oh yeah, Kasumi slept over. What the hell-o is Shaun doing to her? Playfighting? Stupid overgrown lug,_ he thought to himself.

He threw back the covers and picked up Quantum Bear off the floor, did five press-ups so he didn't have to lie to Pop when he inevitably asked if he'd done his exercises. Sounded like Shaun was doing his.

He grabbed his clothes off the chair and headed to the bathroom, peeking into his parent's room on the way. _Oh no. They're tangling 'taches again. Grody,_ he thought, using a new (well, old) word that Ricky had taught him. _Gramps is one cool ghoul._

Face splashed, bladder relieved, hands washed, Dunc headed to the kitchen. One bowl of Sugarbombs and a big helping of milk was supplemented by half a packet of gumdrops that he'd lifted from Sturges' back pocket. _Better remember to bring my caps out so I can buy a full packet from Felix, _the very Vault-Tec rep that had knocked on Pop's door so long ago. _Sneaking it back into his dungaree pocket's gonna be the trick,_ he thought. After all, if he replaced what he'd pickpocketed with something better, it wasn't stealing, was it?__

__Nobody was up yet but then it was pretty early still. He grabbed his rubber ball and went outside to see if Dogmeat wanted to play. The old fella just shook floppy ears at him and dropped his greying chin with a 'hrrrumph'. Even Dogmeat wanted to lie in._ _

__Duncan kicked the ball down the street to the clinic on the corner - as far as he was allowed to go - when he heard gentle music coming from the barracks, toward the bridge. He stashed the ball in its 'secret' spot under a foundation and meandered over._ _

__The smell of smoke and grilled molerat met his nostrils. A few Minutemen wandered about or sat eating or cleaning weapons. Ricky's guitar sounded half-asleep and sad today, _what's that word… melon cally?_ the eleven year old pondered._ _

__Ricky spotted him, smiled and immediately picked up the pace, playing his own version of that bingle bongle jungle song. Duncan grinned and sat cross-legged on the ground in front of his great-times-six grandfather._ _

__* * *  
MacCready opened reluctant eyelids to see Vin, propped up on one elbow and staring at him in that beautific way of his. Before Mac could get his mouth working, Vincent spoke:_ _

__"Mornin' hubby, how're you feeling?"_ _

__“Better than yesterday, that’s for sure,” Mac planted a kiss on his husband’s lips. “How did you sleep? What about your hip, is it still painful?”_ _

__"It's letting me know it's there but all the pain is gone."_ _

__“Well that sounds positive, just have to take it easy as per the Doc’s instructions. Talking of taking it easy, what time is it? Did we sleep in?” It was certainly daylight, as the sun was peeping in through the chinks in the curtains._ _

__"Early. House is quiet, kids're sleepin'"_ _

__His moustache shifted casually with his half-smile, like a greaser leaning on a bar. "I'm thinkin' about breakfast. You know what I'd like?"_ _

__Mac shook his sleep-tousled head._ _

__Vincent leaned closer, his grin expanding, creeping across to the other side of his face._ _

__"Cinnamon bun," he crooned, kissing MacCready's bow-like mouth._ _

__“Oh would you now? What if it’s not on the menu, Huggy Bear?” Mac couldn’t play the tease for long, and as Vin’s kisses crept down his neck, he muttered, “Though I think it probably is…”_ _

__"Might go for a….hotdog, too…" Vin trailed kisses down onto Mac's chest. "Mmmaybe even…a donut…."_ _

__The bedroom door opened slightly, very quietly thanks to its well-oiled hinges. Neither Vin nor Mac noticed. Neither did they register the sounds that started coming from the basement as they were too busy making their own. Vincent almost always got horny when he was really happy._ _

__“By all means,” Mac murmured and gulped as Vin continued to kiss and caress him. “The umm, snack stand is open for business.”_ _

__Nor were they aware of the padfoot that now left the room…_ _

__Mac surrendered to pleasure, as his Huggy Bear took possession of him. Both of the men were quickly satisfied, and Mac leant over the side of the bed to grab a swig of water from the glass on the nightstand. “Ya know, I’ve really built up an appetite for breakfast.” The increased appetite was a novelty for MacCready, he’d previously been able to get through the days on nicotine and fumes, but now he seemed to always be craving his next meal._ _

__Vincent placed one last kiss on his lover's lips and swung himself out of bed and into his morning press-ups. He finished quickly and looked up and through the now open door into Duncan's room. "Looks like MacDunc is up. There's a trail o' clues…" he added, smirking and picking up a fleck of foil-backed gumdrop wrapper and a solitary sugar bomb._ _

__Mac sat up and reached over blindly for his prosthesis and swiped at empty air._ _

__“Ok! Who moved my goddamn foot! Dunc!” The only explanation Mac could think of was that his son had moved it, under the guise of a misjudged good deed._ _

__Vin had reached the kitchen, glancing at the doorless cupboard alcove. "Ball's gone, he's outside." A moment later…"Your foot's in the dogbowl again! Old boy's jealous!"_ _

__“Oh, that’s just great. I’ve got to wear that; it can’t be hygienic!” For a man who had previously had no qualms about picking up a half-finished cigarette from the street and smoking it, Mac had become awfully prissy. “Jealous. Humph. That brute gets more attention than I do!” Mac was finding the whole thing pretty amusing now his initial irritation had worn off._ _

__"I'm cleanin' it as your gripin', Mac," Vin shouted through, noting that Dogmeat hadn't even left a scratch…just slobber._ _

__The happy couple sat down to breakfast, gamely ignoring the badly muffled squawks from downstairs. Shaun briefly appeared, red-faced and grinning but not meeting either parent's gaze, to swipe some food and vanish downstairs again._ _

__Vin rushed his food. "I'd better go check on Dunc."_ _

__“Relax, Vin, he’ll be fine! He’s probably with Sturges making a nuisance of himself. He knows everybody, and everybody knows him in this town. Besides, he’s sensible, he’s not going to just wander off somewhere.” Mac continued to help himself to seconds. “You’ll get indigestion dashing around like that. At least let the breakfast go down.”_ _

__^^^^^^^^^^  
They finally went out to check on their son and see how Ricky was doing. Vin wanted to check on Dan at Red Rocket and, though he was also supposed to be on sick leave, he also wanted to 'just tinker' with the damaged power armour suits there._ _

__They spotted Duncan sitting on a stool, holding the old ghoul's guitar with Ricky stood behind him, teaching him to play chords._ _

__"Your Dad's here, lesson's over, sonny," Ricky said apologetically._ _

__"Dad! Vin Pop! Dad I can play three whole chords, lend an ear!" Hesitantly, Duncan stretched his small hand and just reached the strings, holding them down firmly to produce three clear chords._ _

__"Boy's a natural, Bobbie Jo," exclaimed Ricky._ _

__Mac wasn’t so keen on being called Bobbie Jo, but he didn’t want to hurt Ricky’s feelings, so he mumbled, “It’s Mac, please,” not even sure if he had been heard. In a much louder voice, he congratulated Duncan on his musical prowess. “Great work there, son!”_ _

__Ricky clapped MacCready on the shoulder. "Sorry Mac, was thinkin' that name di'n't sit right. Bet you never get called 'Robert', eh?"_ _

__Vin gave Dunc a few claps. "Sounds great, son! Hey, Ricky, we're headin' to Red Rocket to check on my big brother…well, I never had siblings, he's chosen family, y'know? I think Duncan here might like to learn one more chord, if that's okay? You're welcome to join us if you don't mind talkin' power armor. Mac, you wanna stay here a while, meet me there?_ _

__“Oh, Valentine likes to call me Robert sometimes. Maybe cos he knows it annoys me! Anyhoo, I’ll stay here, sure. Maybe Ricky can teach me a few chords as well.” Mac grabbed himself a chair and sat down._ _

__Vincent Hudson-MacCready strode over the wooden bridge out of Sanctuary. The sound of pads and clattery nails on the planks made him look down to see old Dogmeat scamper to his side._ _

__"Hey, boy, comin' to your old house with me?"_ _

__Dogmeat looked up at Vin with baleful eyes and wagged his tail just a little._ _

__"Yeah, I know you know what you did, you jealous ol' hound. Just don't you go touchin' Mac's foot again, you hear?"_ _

__Dogmeat whimpered. Vin patted his thigh. "C'mon then, boy." The old alsatian perked up and hobbled along after._ _

__The Red Rocket garage came into view. Once an abandoned husk of a service stop, the place was now a miniature settlement in its own right and home to the Rhyses._ _

__Once a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, Saul Danse had been abducted by the Institute, scanned, killed and recreated as a synth. The Sentinel-General had stepped in when this was discovered, between Maxson (who would have executed him) and Danse, who was deeply depressed to discover the truth about himself, to save his life._ _

__Exiled from his former vocation, the man now going by 'Diesel' Dan discovered that his former squad member, Leonard Rhys, was in fact in love with him. Rhys transferred from the BoS to the Minutemen and shortly after Shaun received his adult body, the two former knights were married._ _

__The garage door was open. Vincent saw Rhys standing in a dented suit of power armour, shuffling about, Dan kneeling in front, wielding a hammer._ _

__"Dammit, man stay still!" Dan shouted._ _

__"Dee, I'm telling you the servo is busted. Keeps on sparking by itself. Lemme get out, first."_ _

__Dan threw the hammer on the floor. "Exit, then." He was not in the best of moods._ _

__Vincent strolled up, nonchalantly. "Hey, brother. Problem?"_ _

__Rhys had stepped out, the power armour closed and then the leg twitched all by itself._ _

__Diesel Dan just pointed. "That. It's happening on two other suits as well."_ _

__"Lemme take a look. Probably 'lurk acid got in and dissolved the sheathing. This model had a few cheap parts," he said, prising the carapace off the T-51's thigh. He'd worn the same model into the battle of Anchorage and knew it intimately._ _

__Thirty minutes later, when MacCready, Duncan and Ricky wandered up, Vin was doing more than 'just tinkering'. Mac saw him squatting at the power armour station in the way he was only supposed to do for thirty seconds._ _

__“Well, well, well, what have we here? Vin! That is _definitely_ against Doctor’s orders.” Vin turned to look guiltily at Mac, who carried on remonstrating with the power armor repair crew. “Dan, you know he’s injured, how could you let him strain his hip like that?” Mac harrumphed and stood, arms folded awaiting an explanation._ _

__Dan looked at Vin. "You said you were recovered, brother."_ _

__Vin put his tools down and held his hand up. "I said it wasn't painin' me no more."  
Dan caught the look of reprimand Mac threw Vincent and just sucked in a breath and said, "Married life, am I right?"_ _

__They both gave each other huge grins_ _

__Vincent stood, turned and held Mac's hand briefly. "Sorry, bun."_ _

__Ricky looked around the workshop. "Nice setup you got here, guys. I made a few tinman suits in my time. First one I learned on was a prototype minin' variant, used black titanium, not really somethin' you find outside o' Appalchia in my experience._ _

__Diesel Dan was hooked. Power armour was something of an obsession, though he had been more used to using it, rather than fixing it, these days he could go for a week without wearing it to fight in. Fusion cores were too precious to waste on the constant patrols._ _

__"What model was it a variation of? Do you still have it?"_ _

__"T-45, 'cept they had to switch the reactor to an Ultracite one. Never got off the ground, pre-war. Penelope just thinks they're fancy black titanium coffins but it had its uses. No, I don't. I gave 'em up, that an my Ultracite T-60 Vigilante."_ _

__"Sounds like valuable technology to me, old man. You just gave them away?" Both Dan and Vin were now riveted._ _

__"Handed down, morelike, used up 'til they were so busted and materials got so rare after the prime Queen was taken down. They're scrap, now, more as like."_ _

__Duncan was as uninterested as his father in Power Armor and he couldn’t wait to tell Dan about his new found talent playing guitar. As soon as there was a lull in the conversation he interjected, “Guess what, Dan? I can play the guitar now. Well, kinda!”_ _

__"Why ask me to guess when you tell me anyway, Duncan? I see, music is beneficial for mental stimulation, I understand," he paused, secretly savouring their expressions. " I also rather like "Good Rockin' Tonight." There, now you have a goal."_ _

__Duncan grinned. "I'll do my best, uncle Dan!"_ _

__The imposing man turned to Ricky, just a flicker of distaste at Ricky's ghoulified nature showing. "I would very much like to see schematics."_ _

__"Sorry, Diesel, you'd have to go a long way just to be dissappointed on that score."_ _

__Ricky turned back to his family. "Say, Mac, we'd best be fillin' our bellies about now. What shall we do about that, then?"_ _

__“S’pose we could head back to the house and have a rummage in the cupboards? Now Ricky had mentioned it, Mac was hungry too. This hunger thing was a bit of a pain, Mac was almost feeling nostalgic for the days when a cigarette would be all he needed at lunchtime._ _

__They returned to the house and found themselves a feast. Well, Vincent found the feast. He felt guilty about making Mac mad at him and food always helped alleviate that._ _

__Shaun and Kasumi joined them. She had had to return to her work after the meal, so when all the dishes were cleared, Mac felt like he needed to cheer his eldest son up a bit._ _

__“Why don’t we do something fun this afternoon, Shaun? What do you think? Any ideas?” Mac wondered if Shaun still had some things that he needed to get off his chest._ _

__"Well, yeah but I don't want to read Grognak until later. How about some target practice, you, me an' Ricky? No offense Dad but…I need some time with my other dad, too. Is that okay?"_ _

__"Sure, if that's alright with you, Mac? Ricky?"_ _

__"I don't want ta be a third wheel, Mac. If ya want me along, that's fine. I might check on your eagle-eyes there, see how the.. uh…the mutation's settlin' down," Ricky suggested._ _

__“No, it’s ok, please come with, Gramps, we can both keep an eye on Pa then,” Shaun replied.  
“I don’t need an eye on me,” Mac laughed, “I’m almost back to normal. It’ll be great to see if I _have_ improved due to this mutation thingy though.”_ _

__They gathered scoped rifles and headed out.  
They had to walk for quite some way before seeing any violent vermin. Mac saw the stingwing first. He crouched and let off a shot. It went down in one. He spotted another one but waited for Shaun to see it, which he did…a good twenty seconds later, as it came towards them. A few bloatflies and an erratic radstag later, they went to pick up their kills. Mac's leg complained at having to walk so far as it was much farther than he'd realised. His proprioception was still adjusting to his increased perception and focal distance._ _

__“Welp, seems you were right Gramps, my sight seems to be a lot better. What do you reckon?”_ _

__"Definitely, you got Eagle Eyes, son. Best sniper just got better!" Ricky slapped him on the back._ _

__Shaun was impressed. "My eyes are..well..like, genetically engineered to be excellent but you can see about a fifth again as far, Pa!"_ _

__Having picked up as much as they could carry, they turned to head back and Shaun finally opened up._ _

__"Pa, I'm real sorry I swore at you the other day. Uh, can I talk to you?"_ _

__“Of course, and I already forgot about the swearing, you were under a lot of pressure.” Mac waited patiently for Shaun to talk._ _

__"Dad's just so infuriating. I mean, I'm real confused. When he took me out of the Flags, he was, like, furious. You know, in that scary quiet way he has of bein' mad? He said Kas and I couldn't be together, that it might break up the Brotherhood and Minutemen. I mean, seriously? Or is it just an _inconvenience_ to him, put him in an awkward position, huh? _ _

__"Well, then he said he likes Kasumi. He did go find her in Far Harbor, after all. You know what he said to me? 'She's a keeper'..but that he couldn't just buy us another whiskey and rent us a room…that there's alot to do before that. I mean, how the h..how does he intend to 'pave the way' anyhow? How long will it take? Is he gonna face Elder Maxson about it? Like it's any of **his** business anyway. _And then_ he lets us sleep together in my room." Shaun looked away from Mac then, turning a little red._ _

__“What can I say son, welcome to the world of Vin Hudson-MacCready, He only wants what’s best for you, he really does, but he worries. Maybe he has something to worry about with Maxson, who knows? But he also knows it’s not your fault, and he wants to shield you from any problems. What I _do_ know is that if he has to go toe to toe with Maxson to make you happy then he will do. All he wants is for his friends and family to be happy and safe and he’ll go to any lengths to do that. Just sometimes he can’t see the wood for the trees.” Mac sighed, and put his arm round Shaun, “He loves you so much, just try and cut him a little slack, he’s only trying to do what’s right for you and Kasumi”_ _

__Shaun wrapped both arms around MacCready in a rare hug, Ricky smiled at the pair, casting his eyes to the ground._ _

__"Look…I know what some of the crew say about you an' Dad when they think they can get away with it…and believe me, I'm reporting them to Proctor Ingram just like Dad told me to. Man, if some of them found out Danse was alive _and_ gay _and_ married to Rhys, the Prydwen'd blow up! I can see Proctor Ingram chew back her comments to those ignoramuses, sometimes. Still…Dad has a point. If anyone got to Kasumi…"_ _

__Shaun dropped to the ground, now they were almost in scope-range of Sanctuary. "Y'know, I'm so glad Dad fixed it for me to," Shaun made finger quotation marks, "grow up...but I just wish I was human, some days." Synths cannot cry, though Shaun looked as though he was really trying to._ _

__“You’re as human as I am, Shaun, it’s your spirit that’s human, the body, well, it’s just a container. I mean look at me, lost my foot, got some mutations, but I’m still the same person. Me and your Dad couldn’t be prouder of you.” Mac surreptitiously wiped a tear from his eye and gazed into the middle distance. “And as for those Brotherhood bigots, bah, they’re pathetic and I’m sorry that you’ve had to deal with that.”_ _

__Shaun smiled and stood up. "Thanks Pa. We'd better get back. I'll go vanguard," he said as he loped off, leaving Mac with Ricky._ _

__"That's a good kid you got there, son an' a helluva lot ta deal with, all o' youse. Don't take it as condescendin' if I tell ya I'm proud o' ya, huh?"_ _

__Mac once again found himself fixating on a random object in the middle distance, holding back the tears which threatened to flow unchecked. “Thanks Gramps, it means a lot, no offence taken at all.” He turned to look directly at Ricky, having composed himself. “I’m really glad we got the opportunity to meet, Gramps. I’m gonna miss you when you go home.”_ _

__Ricky put both hands on Mac's shoulders, his face belying the lump in his throat. He just nodded and turned to go, trying to hide the fact that he, too was wiping away tears from his cloudy blue eyes._ _

__By the time they returned, a gathering of chairs and outdoor grills had been set up by the tree.  
Vincent smiled and waved them over. Some neighbours wandered over and took the meat to prepare it, whilst Ricky got his guitar and a couple of settlers brought instruments._ _

__"Nothin' beats songs round a campfire, 'cept when there's food ta go with it!" Ricky grinned as Vin, having already cooked the first portion, brought it to Ricky. Duncan was carrying a tray of lemonade around the assembled settlers whilst a wall guard looked wistfully over her shoulder at the smell of grilled radstag. Vin spotted her and winked, an unspoken promise to save her some._ _

__Shaun made a beeline for his dad and without explanation, wrapped him in a brief, tight hug. "Smells good, Dad. Mac got stingwing, too from _you wouldn't believe_ how far away!_ _

__Duncan heard and skipped, almost spilling the jug he carried. "My Dad's got superpowers! I knew he'd be okay!" Mac ruffled his son's hair. Duncan passed the jug to Marcy. "You need a cool superhero name now," Duncan declared. "I know!" he said, shifting his stance ready to run. "Magic-Eye Mungo!" he yelled and ran, grinning manically!_ _

__Mac wanted to chase his son, but was too exhausted after the hunting expedition to do anything other shake his fist vaguely in the general direction that the boy had run in and when Duncan stopped to check over his shoulder if his dad had taken the bait, he traipsed back, disappointed at the lack of horseplay. He turned his attentions to Shaun, maybe he’d be more fun than the boring grown-ups._ _

__Notes rang out from Lucky Ricky's guitar, just warm-up tunes and chords at first, the kind that made you feel relaxed, welcome and in good company. Then he blended it seamlessly into "Good Hearts and Gentle People"._ _

__Vin made sure that his husband got an extra large helping and went back to the grill. Sturges plonked himself on a chair and put his feet up on another. Preston and Lu emerged from The Two Flags carrying crates of beer. Dogmeat and Rocket nosed around for scraps, only to be hissed at by Pebbles the cat._ _

__Two figures came up the road. Vincent put down his spatula and whipped off his apron. "Hey, brother, you nearly missed the barbecue! Hi Rhys, " Vin smiled._ _

__Diesel Dan squeezed himself into a garden chair and accepted a plate from Preston. "Hey, Dan, Leonard. You've worked really hard, you earned this!_ _

__Vincent went to finally sit down, next to MacCready. "Hey, crooner, think you could cope with an audience? I'd really love to hear you sing." Vin made big puppy eyes, ones that his hubby could never say no to._ _

__“Oh go on then, everyone will be too busy eating to notice me anyway…” Mac asked Ricky if he knew ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight’. The ghoul nodded in confirmation and struck the opening chords as a red faced MacCready cleared his throat and came in right on cue. The gathered crowds of neighbours and friends started to sway and clap along appreciatively which gave Mac a boost of confidence to carry him through the whole song. After the song had finished, he received a round of applause, with some whoops and cheers thrown in for good measure. “Urgh, thanks everyone,” he said with a slight awkward bow, before returning to his seat to get to work on what was left of his food._ _

__"Such a great voice, Mac!", Ricky applauded. Suddenly little Bobbie, who had been sulky and quiet until then said, "Big buv R.J. can sing? He can sing good, Dada!" Jun smiled and nodded. Marcy added, "That was…beautiful, MacCready. You should sing more often!"_ _

__Vin agreed: "That's what I've been telling him, Marce!"_ _

__Ricky called out, "OK, we need a bass. Vin?"_ _

__“Umm, not sure that’s such a great idea, Gramps…” Mac hoped that Ricky would take the hint and not pressurise Vin into a performance. Mac knew that Vin was embarrassed about his inability to hold a note and didn’t want him to be put on the hot spot in front of everybody. “I tell you what, I’ll do another number later, after I’ve finished eating.”_ _

__"I'll do it," a rich, low voice said. All eyes turned to Dan. Rhys, his usually stern and grumpy face now transformed into an adoring smile, assured them, "My Dan can really hold a tune, it's true!"_ _

__"Alrighty, mighty Dan. Let's hear it; Mac, harmonise okay?_ _

__Mac wondered if he was ever going to get to finish chowing down, but he got up out of his chair again in a good humour and wove his way back around the assembled chairs to where Ricky was sitting. “Yes, boss.. just tell me where you want me, and what we’re gonna sing.”_ _

__Their rendtion of 'Crawl Out through the Fallout' was a huge success..and Mac finally got to finish eating after that._ _

__The evening wound down and people started drifting away but Ricky was still playing, though quietly now. He finished a song Mac hadn't recognised and, pausing, looking like he was suddenly struggling to breathe for a brief moment, moved on to singing a perfect, melancholy rendition of 'Take me Home, Country Roads'._ _

__The sun went down, dappling light through the trees. Vincent, Mac, Ricky, Shaun and Duncan collapsed in the front room. Duncan was yawning but went to his room and returned clutching Issue 9, In the Lair of the Virgin Eater._ _

__"Gramps, can Dad be Grognak this time? I'm tired._ _

__Ricky nodded but glanced over at Mac for confirmation.  
“Yup, I’ll be Grognak, though I’m not sure my voice is up to it after all that singing..” Duncan looked at his dad with disappointment in his eyes. “I was kidding, I was kidding!” Mac threw his hands up in surrender, “Of course I’ll do it…”_ _

__Duncan sleepily tugged on his dad's sleeve and asked, "Do Virgins come from Virginia?_ _

__Mac chortled, “Umm, well some do I s’pose.” Thankfully, Duncan seemed to be satisfied with the answer._ _


	16. Lucked Out 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Ricky Gee really want from MacCready? The last issue of Grognak the Barbarian looms.

ISSUE 10 - 'What Sorcery This?'

Sanctuary. It had certainly lived up to its name. A safe and homely place, filled with family, friends, shared food and music. Not to mention pets. Pebbles, the white cat, purred where she sat curled up on Ricky's jacket. He picked a few notes, retuned a string and played a soft melody. It was early; later than the guards left the barracks but earlier than most who lived here were awake.

The sound brought light footsteps towards it.

"Morning, Gramps! Can I have another lesson please, sir?" Duncan's eyes shone with excitement. Ricky noticed how they were suddenly unlike MacCready's when wide in wonder. _Must look just like his mom's,_ Ricky mused.

"Sure, kiddo, sure. Here, grab that little red stool an' put it there, so's I can sit behind ya."

Duncan did as he was bid and Ricky placed the guitar gently in his lap, adjusted the strap and reminded him where to put his fingers. His first chord echoed sweetly around the buildings.

"Here kid, let me tell ya some things," Ricky began.

* * *  
The front door banged open, making Dogmeat jump. 

"Duncan!" shouted both parents in unison.

"Sorry Dad, sorry Pop! I learned more music an' Gramps says I have talent an' if we can find a book…"

“Morning Gramps, hope Dunc didn’t wake you up too early. And as for you Duncan, I’m not sure I want you getting in the habit of leaving the house without telling us where you’re going to!” MacCready was annoyed with his son, having him wafting in and out of the house whenever he felt like it was not to be encouraged.

"Sorry Dad," Duncan said in a small voice.

"Mornin', cats," Ricky drawled. "Dunc ate a'ready. Too many Sugarbombs, sorry. Hey Mac, I was wonderin' if you an' I could have some one on one, in a while. Mighta promised the youngin some Grognak first, though, if that's agreeable?"

Vincent, just finishing his own breakfast, nodded. Mac's plate was already empty and the clink of weights in the basement gave away Shaun's whereabouts.

“Sure, one to one time sounds good, what do you reckon, Vin? Is that OK?” Mac checked with his husband, to make sure that he didn’t have any other plans for them for the day.

Vincent swallowed his last mouthful. "Sure, I said I'd help Shaun study today anyway."

"Great. Well, after, let's go check out your runnin' speed; you can still run alright on that, right?" Ricky asked, gesturing with a cigarette bearing hand at Mac's left leg."

“Yeah, not quite as nimble as I was, but I can still get myself out of trouble if I need to, thanks to Vin sorting this out for me.” Mac tapped on his prosthetic proudly.

Mac caught Vin blushing proudly. He loved it when his creations were appreciated.

"Cool. Let's check your reload an' your melee, too. You got a hittin' weapon, I take it?

“Yup, just a moment,” Mac disappeared into the bedroom and returned brandishing an axe. “Yes, Gramps, it’s _exactly_ what you think it is!” Mac grinned manically and stopped his axe whirling having narrowly knocking a vase over.

"Su..per..mur..gi..troid… That is boss, man. Where d'ya get that?!"

“Found it when Vin and I were doing a job at the old Hubris Comics HQ. Just lying there waiting for me to grab it! Got the costume too, but I ain’t modelling that for you!” Mac chuckled.

Duncan reappeared, dragging his older brother with him. "I brought the Princess!"

"Little punk. This is issue ten, remember, 'What Sorcery This'? No Princess anymore."

"Oh yeah! She disappeared into that weird swirly thing, didn't she?" Duncan recalled. "Well do your stupid alien voice for the Sorcerer, then."

"Oh, hey no kiddo," Ricky complained. "I always got to be the Sorcerer. Sofia an' I had a big, lit up poster o' that issue, right by her console. She used to track radio signals an' when it pinged, I'd go off on a treasure hunt! Don't know how ol' Grognak did it, goin' off on quests in them fuzzy underpants," he said winking at MacCready. "I had a Grognak costume once, too and boy did I feel a goof. Never did have the muscles to pull it off. Your Pop might, though!"

“Yeah, maybe he would,” said Mac, grinning provocatively at Vin “What do you say, Huggy Bear?” Mac didn’t let on that he’d already seen Vin modelling the costume in the privacy of their bedroom, on a couple of very memorable occasions.

That comment plus the use of his _very private_ nickname made the man go bright red. Duncan exploded into a fit of giggles, Shaun was caught between laughter and embarrassment for his Dad.

Mac noticed that Ricky was trying hard not to cough as they all caught the giggles. Breaths regained, all five of them were needed for this Princess-less final issue of Grognak the Barbarian. No others existed. The only other Grognak tales could be found in the Unstoppables magazines and Mac had all but the one where Mastadonald and Skullpocalypse team up to fight the musclebound hero.

After a thrilling twenty minutes, the last page was turned and the impromptu amateur-dramatic club bowed to each other. 

"Hey Vincent," called Ricky over the boys' ensuing chatter. I hear you played the Silver Shroud, once. That must make Mac here Rhett Reinhart. 

"Dad, do your Reinhart impression!" Duncan insisted.

Mac put on his best British accent, suspiciously Codsworth-like, and said: “I say old chap, have you managed to apprehend those scoundrels yet?” Mac looked around, acknowledging the praise and laughter of his family.

A subtle hiss of jet outside the window and Codsworth suddenly said," I can hear you, you know Mr. MacCready-Hudson." The robot had been teased by both Mac and Duncan alike, though secretly the old Handy was a little flattered by the impersonation.

Ricky asked to look at Cap'n Cosmos, the motorbike one more time. He and Vin went to the garage whilst Mac messed about with Duncan some more, the floodgates to Geeksville having been well and truly opened. Shaun disappeared back downstairs, muttering something about studying.

At length, Ricky returned, having popped in on Shaun briefly to take him a coffee. 

"Mac," Ricky Gee prompted, "let's go for that little wander now, huh, while the weather holds up. Just need to grab my gear, I'll meet ya on the bridge."

“OK, Gramps, see you in five.” Mac assembled his own gear and left the house with his Grognak axe casually slung over his shoulder, having said his goodbyes.

The old ghoul ruffled Duncan's hair and left the house.

The sunlight leapt off the tiny wavelets in the river. Ricky wore shades and had recovered his leather jacket from Pebbles. No doubt there was white fur still in the lining.

He carried his rifle, his pack and his precious guitar. As Mac approached, he asked, "Ready?" and they took off west, toward Abernathy. Mac knew there would be ferals past the farm and said so (somehow, there always were, attracted by Wicked Shipping's radioactive barrels perhaps).

"We'd better go clear 'em out then, hey?" replied Gee. Mac made the shots from a great distance, so much so that his top-notch sniper rifle wasn't quite up to match the performance of his increased vision. He might even have to switch down to a medium scope to compensate; the bullets just couldn't fly as far as he could see. They saved a couple for Grognak's Axe and Gramps was impressed with MacCready's technique.

Ricky turned north, a direction few went because the landscape became difficult to traverse but this old fella was an Appalachian mountain-goat, it seemed. Mac decided to query their route.

A broad log lay near their path, so Ricky sat, making no effort, this time, to hide how painful that was.

“Is everything alright, Gramps? Maybe this isn’t the best route to go on, it’s kind of strenuous. Perhaps we should head on home now?” Mac was feeling a little fatigued himself, a reminder that he hadn’t quite fully recovered from his poisoning.

"Let's just rest here awhile, son," he said, his breath rattling in his chest again. "So, was there anythin' else you wanted ta ask me? Or maybe tell me?

Mac cleared his throat, this had been on his mind for a while now, “Why don’t you stay here, with us Gramps? I don’t like the thought of you going back on your own. I’m worried that once you’ve gone, we won’t see you again, and I know I’d miss you, and so would everyone else in the family. I mean, no pressure, if you have stuff that you have to go back for then fair enough, but I have to at least ask.”

"No, no son. I need ta get home," Ricky gave him a smile tinged with both pride and melancholy. "Now, lean back an' let me bash yer ears awhile an' just you put a lid on it 'til I'm done jaw'in, ya dig?"

“Sounds serious, Gramps, OK, I’m listening.” Mac settled himself down on the log beside Ricky.

"I knew this guy, once. He'd turned ghoul an' all those round him, save one, were scared as shit. He left a note fer his buddy an I was lookin' for him as he had skills we needed. Got down into the cave he'd moved inta, had all these traps an' such but they weren't fer intruders. They were for him. He was already old when he turned an' just wanted out, by his terms. He agreed ta help us but then he wanted to carry on with his plan. He asked me an' …I couldn't do it." Ricky frowned, staring at the earth at his feet.

"So I left him to it. I hope he went out right." There was a long pause before Ricky looked up, right into Mac's sharp, blue eyes.

"I may be a ghoul, son but I'm still dyin'. Body can't no longer heal faster than it's fallin' apart. Every joint is painful. My ears are ringin', practically blind in this eye," he motioned to his left and drew out a cigarette, offering one to Mac and lit them both. He took a deep drag before continuing.

"Chest rattles, sometimes it's hard ta breathe. Heh, I know these don't help none but fuckit. Won't go inta detail 'bout what state my gut's in. It ain't purdy. Nothin' doin' for it, son."

He removed his shades and hung them on the neck of his worn Red River Ale t-shirt and squinted at Mac.

"I was gonna hire me a gun but, now I got ta know who's behind the trigger, I'm guessin' he'd be a mite offended now.…

Mac felt nausea deep in his gut. Surely Ricky wasn’t going to ask this of him?

"I never wanted to go out 'cause o' someone's rage…nor indifference. I want ta go out by love's hand. Didn't get none too much o' that as a child. Mobster father died when I was four. Grandpappy was a bad, bad man. Seein' what he did made me run. That saved me; Valentine saved me. I came lookin' to find my kin like you were my last issue. Coulda been a raider or worse. But I found you. The thrillin' conclusion to my story."

Ricky's trademark smirk held genuine joy and pride.

"So here's what we're gonna do. I'm goin' over yonder crick there, playin' my guitar. You send me back to my Sofia with one clean shot, back o' the head. I'll try not to fall on the guitar, that's goin' back with you for Duncan." Ricky pulled a laser pistol from his pack. "Make me ashes with this. Don't care what you put 'em in. This pistol, she's close to breakin' so don't fix her after. I just ask you take your whirlybird an' bury me next to my wife, ya with it? Vin knows where.

Mac suddenly felt a wave of anger, “So you came to find me just to ask me to kill you? Nope. I’m not doing it. You made us all care about you goddammit, when the whole time you were setting us up for a fall. There’s plenty of ways to die out here, you don’t need me. Just go for a stroll in downtown Boston. How do you expect me to look Duncan in the eye when he asks what happened to Gramps and I produce a pile of ashes?” Mac’s rage subsided and he started to sob, staring at the ground wondering how a happy little jaunt into the woods had come to this. A horrific thought struck him, “Did Vin know about this? Tell me the truth Gramps.”

"I didn't need ta say it in so many words, nor outright, son…but he understood. As for what you tell that fine son o' yours, both of 'em, you tell them Gramps went home, is all. It'll be the truth.

I came lookin' for you, hopin' I'd find good people, ones who I could share my stories with, to whom I could give what is rightfully theirs. I found more'n I ever dreamed. I found heroes an' community an'…an' hope fer the future."

Ricky took a last drag on his cigarette and crushed the stub beneath his boot. He took Mac's trembling hands in his own. "I'm askin' you for one last gift, Mac. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could, or if you didn't have someone to help you through after. I know grief all too well, son.

Would you take me home now, please?"

“Oh for fuck’s sake.. “ Mac mumbled under his breath, “FOR FUCKS SAKE!” he stood up and yelled, fist flailing impotently at some unknown deity in the sky. He sank back down onto the log, “Doesn’t look like I’ve got any choice, does it?” Mac was still angry, so he sat for a while, trying to compose himself, Ricky sat patiently all the while, letting Mac run the gamut of his emotions. “Ok, Gramps. Ok, you win.” He took Ricky’s hand in his, gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want the last face you see to be an angry one.” Mac gently kissed his ancestor on the cheek. “Just came as a shock to me, ya know? But I see it’s not about me. Thanks for bringing some joy into all our lives, Gramps, when you see your Sofia give her a hug from all of us”

Ricky smiled and cried simultaneously, wrapping Mac in a strong, firm hug. "Sofia would've adored ya. I love you, son." He placed a kiss on Mac's forehead. Ricky stood, with effort, leaving his pack and rifle by MacCready's feet. He wandered away, the notes of his guitar soon blending with his voice as he sang the most yearning version of 'Take me Home, Country Roads' that Mac had ever heard.

A moment’s hesitation from MacCready as he aimed his rifle and looked through the scope, then into muscle memory mode, just another job, take aim, fire. And it was all over. Mac hung his head as Ricky hit the ground. The noise of the shot was still echoing in the air, and birds that had been disturbed were whirling in the air squawking indignantly. Mac was scared to make his way over to the recumbent form, but forced himself, one step at a time to where Ricky lay.

He forced himself to check for a pulse, and of course there was none. Mac couldn’t bear to turn Ricky over, couldn’t bear to see that kindly face ruined. Ricky’s guitar lay next to him, unharmed. MacCready picked it up reverently and moved it away to a safe distance. He took the laser pistol and reduced Ricky’s remains to a pile of ashes. After waiting for the ashes to cool he started gathering them up as best as he could into a Vaultec lunchbox he carried in his backpack. Not the most dignified of receptacles but the best he could find under the circumstances. “Don’t worry Gramps, this is just temporary” he mumbled under his breath as he put the lunchbox back in his backpack.   
He hoisted the guitar over one shoulder, and Gramps’ backpack and rifle over the other. His own rifle he kept at the ready in case needed. It was necessity and adrenaline that made the long lonely walk back to Sanctuary possible. He tried not to think about anything, just the tedious business of one foot in front of the other.   
It seemed like an eternity of trudging passed until he reached the familiar landmarks surrounding Sanctuary. Eventually, the bridge that served as one of the boundaries to the settlement came into view. Mac recognised Vin’s heavy-set form straight away, though he was just a silhouette at this distance. He picked up the pace, wanting nothing more than to be home.

* * *  
Vincent stood on the bridge, waiting. Shaun and Duncan were safely at the Longs, where he had arranged for them to stay for a couple of days. He'd packed a bag, thinking about what Ricky had said to him in private.

The old ghoul had made loud overtures about the restored bike and then closed the door. Taking Vin's hand in both of his own to shake his hand, he pressed something cool into his palm. Vincent opened his hand to see a red, white and blue ribboned medal, inscribed with "In Defence of Democracy" on one side and "General R. Gee" on the other. 

"From one General to another," Ricky croaked, you have my respect, sir. You deserve this more'n I do. I heard the stories, saw the Commonwealth transformed by the one they called the Vault Dweller. I may have conned my way inta openenin' the Federal Reserve vault.…my Overseer thought we could kickstart a fair economy. Two hundred years an' that gold bullion ain't used as currency anywhere but Appalachia. If I'd a known bottlecaps woulda become so precious I'd have come out o' seventy six a rich man."

Vincent huffed out a laugh. "But you also fought the Scorchbeast Queen, right?"

"Me an' others. They ain't died out but we keep 'em in check. Can't spread the plague so far no more. I've done my bit."

Ricky settled onto a stool, with some difficulty.

"I'm so glad my boy married such a fine gentleman..an' a cool cat ta boot. He's gonna need ya when he gets back. I'm gonna ask him to do somethin' hard. When I walk out your front door, you ain't gonna see me again. Ya dig?"

Vincent had felt the weight of the old ghoul's words, noticed his pain. Ricky didn't have to say it outright; he'd understood.

"Hey, Ricky? Do me a favor. Make a coffee an' take it down to Shaun? Just…keep it cool, old timer. He doesn't need to know."

"Read my mind, cat. Hey, look after Zeke an' the gang for me?"

"Sure thing, Gramps."

* * *  
Shaun and Duncan piled in to the Long's house. Bobbie bounced up to greet them and Shaun swung her high in the air, showing off his strength.

"Hey Jun, old Gramps taught me to play some guitar and he said I'll have my one someday soon and to play every day and listen to the radio and try and copy the tunes an' if any traders have books with notes in to try an' do learnin' off 'em but he never did get the little black dots in his head cause they moved around on the page an' ears are better for learning music anyway an'…"

"Woah, Duncan, breathe! So you're learning guitar? Well you know what, I think I'd like to learn with you. I found a broken banjo a while back. Do you think your Pop would fix it up for me?" Jun asked.

Duncan nodded vigorously. "Gramps said it don't matter if you find lots of bum notes 'cause you always dig up dirt before you find treasure."

Shaun smiled at his little brother. He went to help Marcy fix up snacks in the kitchen, thinking about what the old ghoul had said to him.

Ricky had brought coffee downstairs, sat on the bed and nudged Shaun with an elbow. "She's a kitten, huh? Kasumi…purdy name."

"It's Japanese," explained Shaun. It means 'Mist', which is funny because she went to Far Harbor to meet other Genthrees..I mean, she thought she was a synth for a bit but she was wrong. Anyway, the place is covered in this fog! Mist, fog…?"

Ricky nodded. "So, things are gonna work out, maybe with miss Mist or some other lucky gal. You're young, things change. Whoever you settle down with, make sure you become a parent,"

"I can't. Synths can't procreate," Shaun interrupted, his face fallen.

"That don't stop ya. My biologicals were trash. My real parents…well our dear Detective was a father to me in all of the few days we had while he was..uh..in his origininal packaging. Then in the vault, Jonny an' Cindy fostered me, for the most part. I always thought o' them as my real parents."

Ricky had squeezed Shaun's hand. "I seen you with young'uns. You finish growin' up yerself then when your ready, find some kids who need a good dad. You'll be one; got two fine examples yerself."

Shaun had beamed. He'd thought that door barred to him but now the future began to spread out before him, thanks to Gramps.

* * *

A figure walked up to the bridge where Vin was waiting. It wasn't Mac, Vin noted with a sag. A skeletal hand raised in the air in greeting.

"Valentine! Hey partner, didn't think you'd be back this way for a while."

Nick looked into Vin's eyes, assessing his mood. "I had an appointment." He lit a cigarette and stood in silence for a while. "Is it done?" he murmured.

Vin understood that Nick knew. "I don't know yet. He just wanted Mac."

The old synth detective nodded gravely. "I'll go wait in the Flags. Stop by when you're ready to go," 

Vin clapped his friend on the shoulder, nodding mutely, searching for signs of his husband coming over the hill.

Mac stumbled up to Vin, feeling the last of his energy deplete now that he was in sight of home. “I… I did it,” was all that he could mumble. He pointed to the guitar by way of explanation, knowing that Vin wouldn’t press him further. “Where’s Duncan? I’m not sure if I can face him quite yet.”

"He and Shaun are staying with the Longs for a couple days. We're taking him home, aren't we?"

Mac simply nodded.

They walked slowly to The Two Flags. The place was empty, save Valentine sitting at the bar, whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other. He turned as he heard them come in and said something to the barkeep, who put two more glasses and a full bottle out, then switched on the closed sign and headed upstairs.

Valentine poured them both a drink. "Mac…I'm…real sorry. That man was like the kid I never got to have with my Jenny. I've been a part of his life in ways that are…hell, mysterious to me. You know how much I hate unsolved mysteries."

Nick drew an envelope out of his pocket. It had a little weight in one corner. "He told me to give you this today," said the synth detective.

"Want me to take that and the guitar and put them in our safe stash?" asked Vin, gently rubbing his husband's arm.

“Yes, please… thank you, Vin” Mac took another swig of the whiskey, and lit a cigarette. Everything felt unreal, he was expecting the door to open and Ricky to walk in at any moment, he had become so used to having him around the past few days.

Vin soon returned and had taken out a fresh cigar and was hitting the whiskey hard himself. "You should open that," he gestured smokily toward the envelope.

“Yeah, I know…” Mac toyed with the envelope, holding it up to the light to try and see inside it. “Can’t be worse than the rest of the day,” he mumbled and with one decisive movement ripped it open and decanted the contents onto the table in front of him.

A key and a letter fell out.

'Dear R.J. MacCready,

Mac. Thankyou son. I know that wasn't easy.

Before you fly off to Appalachia, go to the Atom Cats' Garage. Tell Zeke: Andy sent you. Lift up the jukebox. Take up the tiles. Underneath is my old stash, I'm enclosing the key. Inside, you'll find another key. That one opens the safe at Homestead. 

Go to New Red River Gorge. Route 59, South end of the bridge, you'll find Cow Spots Creamery. Facing the front, look left (SE) past the house and garage to the top of the hill. What's left of our Homestead is there. 

You'll see a stone firepit with a crescent stone seat. I buried a safe under a concrete slab beneath the pit. This is the key. Your inheritance, such as it is, is in there.

Bury me next to Sofia, in the garden. 

And son, you did me proud. I love you,

Gramps 

* * *  
At the Atom Cats' Garage, Zeke was happy to see them. The whole crew were surprised when the safe was opened and aside from the Homestead key, they found a holotape of Ricky's own songs, addressed to the original members. There was also a packet of guitar strings, which Mac pocketed for Duncan and a rare Adventures of Atomcat plushie, which gained a proud place atop the jukebox. There was also a caps stash, which they gave to the Cats.

Mac never did well in vehicles. The Vertibird journey was worse this time but Vin wrapped comforting arms about him and held him, all the way there. Valentine had to come and pay his respects, too, cradling the Vault-Tec lunchbox in a pack on his lap.

The leavest of the Forest, Appalachia, were turning russett. They touched down close to the Creamery and found the ruins of the old Homestead, with a battered, lemon-coloured Protectron still going, minus one arm, collecting junk. The garden had run wild. It was beautiful. 

Vin dug up the safe, then dug a small grave next to the headstone marked "Commander Of My Heart, Sofia DaGuerre, 2043 - 2163.

Vincent found a stone with a flat side and noticed the C.A.M.P. machine poking out of the undergrowth. There was a stonemason's chisel and mallet at the bottom of the toolbox.

Mac, what do you want me to put on the headstone?

“Umm, I think just put the initials, ‘R.G and the dates. I don’t think he’d want a whole hoopla. What do you think Vin, is that appropriate?”

"Sure, bun. Valentine, do you know his birth year?"

"How could I forget. 2065 to 2294. That was a long 'ol run, my friend."

The three of them stood around the grave. Squirrels chirruped in the razorgrain, only to be chased away by a little black cat that mewed. 

“A month ago, I didn’t know you, Gramps, but now I will never forget you. May you rest in peace with your Sofia, forever. During the short time we knew you, you saved my life, and because of you I am standing here today, stronger than ever. I love you and we will remember you in our household every time we hear a guitar and every time we read Grognak.” Mac looked to Vin for guidance, hoping that he had honoured his ancestor appropriately. He wasn’t used to giving solemn speeches.

Vincent was quietly crying so much that he couldn't speak, instead, he nodded and wrapped his great arms around the great, great, great, great, great grandson of the man who had saved Appalachia.

* * *   
After a while, everything being quiet except for the occassional stomping of the collectron, whose voicebox had thankfully stopped working, Vin stood up from the firepit. "He wanted you to have something, hero. Let me get it for you. Valentine, hand me the shovel?

The fire pit excavated, the concrete slab hefted aside, Vin revealed the safe. 

"There you go. Want me to stand by you?" Valentine had wandered over to stand with his back to them, excusing himself that he was keeping watch and admiring the view, whilst also hiding his synthetic face's awkward attempt at expressions of grief, sprinkled with the odd sad smile as he remembered all of the times - every single one - that he had somehow appeared in Ricky's times of need as a Mysterious Stranger.

Mac unlocked the safe. Inside, wrapped up safely against time and the elements, was a large box of caps, several gold bullion, a box containing at least a dozen holotape logs and something trapped between two sheets of plate steel.

Mac opened it reverently. It was the missing Grognak Special issue of the Unstoppables featuring Mastadonald and Skullpocalypse.

Finally, in the bottom, wrapped in a very old, worn and tatty leather jacket was Ricky Gee's Vault 76 issue PIPboy. Mac slipped it on without really thinking. It was still working and full of notes, plus a couple of games.

Vin smiled, sadly, "Now we're a matching pair."

“I guess we are,” Mac said musing at the green screen, barely able to make out what was rendered on it due to the unshed tears in his eyes. “It would have been easier to just swipe one from Vault 81.” It was a lame joke, but Mac had spent his whole life coping with his emotions by cracking lame jokes. He was only just beginning to realise how much his life had changed and was still changing following his days spent with Ricky, and the old coping mechanism was the only thing stopping him from breaking down with grief.

Valentine suggested they spend the night and leave at first light. He'd watch over them. Mac and Vin laid out their sleeping bags in the chrome caravan at the side of the ruins of the house. Its large windows gave them a glorious view as Vincent held MacCready close under the beautiful, beautiful Appalachian sunset. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to @banquos_ghost for once again speaking for our dear MacCready and suffering all I put him through!
> 
> Thankyou, readers for indulging this Fallout 4 / 76 crossover in all of its many (many!) parts.
> 
> At the time of publishing, Hangovers 2 is actually still being written as the story loosely follows the gameplay and Ricky hasn't launched the inevitable nuke yet...also, banquos_ghost and I are planning on writing Vin & Mac's wedding story. Vincent said he'd never marry again...he was wrong.
> 
> Piper Wright's interview with Ricky will pop up somewhere, sometime.
> 
> Thanks also goes to the fan artists whether commissioned or those who engaged in art swaps, bringing Ricky, Vincent & MacCready to life!
> 
> Finally, my gratitude goes out to those readers who reached out to leave comments. You spur us on (jingle, jangle) to keep on writing and show us that people enjoy reading our indulgent action-fluff!
> 
> We aim to please.


End file.
